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Book 



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RELIGION 



THE AVEAL OF THE CHORCH 



AND 



THE NEED OE THE TIMES. 



BY 



GEORGE STEWARD. 



PUBLISHED BY LANE & SCOTT, 

200 Mulberry-street. 

JOSEPH LONGKING, PRINTER. 

1851. 



.565 



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Misses Id: -iimiiauu 

Deo. U lyati 



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PREFACE. 



The motives of a writer are of far less conse- 
quence to his readers^ than the staple of his 
thoughts^ and the style of his performance ; they 
may receive his impressions^ but cannot share his 
obligations. But though motives pass unchal- 
lenged^ every work of man must bear witness to 
some design. A book is a mental offsprings and 
must exhibit the characters of its filiation to the 
public eye : hence an author can hardly be sup- 
posed to affect the shades of society ; worthily, 
or otherwise, he claims publicity, and to his own 
apprehension, at least, stakes something on his 
enterprise. It is then too late to ponder the 
maxim, " quid valeant humeri ;" since, whatever 
be the breadth of his shoulders, he must be pre- 



4 PREFACE. 

pared to stand or fall under the burden which 
public judgment may lay upon him. It is vain 
for him either to sue for the favour of general 
readers, or to seek to mitigate the severity of 
critics : he must confide his progeny to those 
fortunes which its merits and contingencies may 
assign ; just as persons and things are left to 
make their own way through the world. 

At the risk, however, of an act of self-humili- 
ation being imputed, if not of incurring a sus- 
picion on his sincerity, the author ventures to 
forestall, what to many, on reading his pages, 
will become sufficiently apparent : — the evidences 
of both imperfect trainings and imperfect practice, 
in the business of authorship — ^a want of order 
and compactness. In explanation, perhaps ex- 
tenuation of these faults, he simply records the 
fact, that his papers were written during occa- 
sional intervals of leisure, snatched from the 
pressing engagements of a busy ministry. They 
spread over more than two years. The plan 



PREFACE. 5 

and trains of thought, thus interrupted, were 
resumed when all hut obliterated : the suture 
can hardly be concealed, uniting the old with 
the new; differences of colour and of pattern 
may be detected wherever the loom has slum- 
bered. 

In the earlier parts of the book, events are 
referred to, which have already faded from public 
view : disease, famine, revolutions, or commer- 
cial troubles, now seem like entries by the hand 
of time, concealed by an intervening leaf, bearing 
other entries, with the ink still wet. On some 
points, too, the writer's own sentiments have 
been somewhat altered (may he say developed ?) 
by the more recent course of public events. 
The large references to Methodism found in the 
book are the dictates of experience, as well as 
the records of affection to that Church which 
has formed for the writer the sphere of his own 
public life. 

Of the topics themselves, which he has ven- 



6 PREFACE. 

tured to handle^ he conceives far more loftily 
than of his own performance. Other minds, of 
higher reach, may subject them to a profounder 
analysis, or draw them out into a greater ampli- 
tude of practical detail ; but such an admission 
is not one of jealousy but of desire. Small stores, 
and small contributions, however separately in- 
significant, serve to swell the ever-accumulating 
wealth of truth, and the homage due from uni- 
versal mind to the sovereignty of rehgion. 

London, 
Jit gust 1st, 1860. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER Page 

L— THE SPEECH OF GOD 9 

n.— THE WORK OF GOD 29 

IIL—EVANGELISM 52 

W.— CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE 77 

v.— UNBELIEF 95 

VL— CHURCH REQUISITES 113 

Vn.— CHURCH PROVISION 144 

YHL— METHODISM 164 

IX.— CHURCH SANCTITY 183 

X.— CHURCH VISITATIONS 198 

XL— THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT 227 

Xn.— PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES 240 



THE AVEAL OF THE CHURCH 



AND 



THE NEED OF THE TIMES 



CHAPTER I. 

THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

** I have heard thy speech and was afraid." — ^Hab. iii, 2. 

It may be remarked that where mere reason and philosophy 
end, there revelation only begins. The being of God, the 
powers of his nature, and the course of his rule, — facts, 
which these with difficulty reach, and at best but poorly 
scan, — revelation assumes and familiarizes, without parade 
of demonstration, or ak of discovery. It tacitly appeals to, 
and builds upon, the instincts, beliefs, and experiences of 
our nature, — upon the primeval traditions of which itself is 
the depositary, — and upon the whole range of objective 
being, which is but its own faithful echo. It seems to de- 
cline challenging the atheist, while it condescends to ex- 
postulate with the idolator ; as though the first, demented 
by so flagrant an impiety as that which disowns a God, 
must be recovered to the integrity of reason, ere he can 
become a disciple of rehgion : *' The fool hath said in his 
heart, there is no God." 

In keeping with this, its pecuhar recognition of the first 
great truth of rehgion, is its assumption of its own character. 
Revelation is self-announcing, bold, and famihar. It leaves 
the whole task of objecting to its foes, and that of apology 
to its friends ; it calmly takes its position and proceeds to 

1* 



10 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

its ends. It does not speak of God more famUiarly than 
of itself as his oracle to the world. God and the Bible are 
joined together as facts correlative and inseparable. It no- 
where betrays the carefulness of distrust lest its claims^ 
should fail in argument, or to make their way through the 
world. The whole cause of Revelation is by itself ultimately 
committed, not to the Church, to the priesthood, or to tra- 
ditionary or prescriptive influence, hut simply to its own truth. 
All its measures for maintaining itself against adversaries, 
and for securing its ascendency among mankind, spring from 
this one characteristic — ^its self-declaring truthfulness, — 
which may also be viewed as an implied prognostic of its 
final triumph. This observation may be applied to the class 
of sacred writers called Prophets. Judging from the tenor 
of their writings, these were at no pains to demonstrate the 
authority of their office, or the reality of their gifts, to their 
people. This fact implies that both were publicly recog- 
nised, and that though occasion might arise in which a pub- 
lic judgment was in\ited respecting the legitimate claimants 
to the office, no doubt existed respecting the office itself. 
Not only did the religion of the nation authenticate it, its 
history abounded in signal instances of its vindication, and 
its sacred lore was enriched and amplified by a series of the 
loftiest contributions. The very succession of the prophetic 
order tended to preserve in the mind of the nation the im- 
pression and appreciation of its mission ; which bias, though 
doubtless abused by impostors, for the sake of honour or 
gain, rather advanced than injured the true prophet by com- 
parison. His character shone out all the brighter in its 
glories of integrity, independence and earth-despising sanc- 
tity, as the race of worldlings, time-servers, and sycophants, 
in the guise of prophets, were arrayed against him. Illus- 
trious men! "of whom the world was not worthy," to 
whom the only earthly awards of the purest patriotism and 
the noblest public services, were, in general, poverty and 
persecution, from profligate princes and a backsliding peo- 



PROPHETS. 11 

pie ; of whom it is the least praise, that they were master 
spirits in poetry, eloquence, and sublime writing ; that their 
genius, if consecrated to anything but religion, or had shone 
anywhere but in the Bible, would have secured for them 
fame through all ages — as to this day it abides as the most 
venerable radiance of the Old Testament Church. Yet their 
true honour was their office. Heaven-descended truth was 
enshrined in them ; their gifts as men were but the orna- 
ments of her temple, as the gold, and the cherubim, were 
but the garniture of the oracle, and pavilion of the Divine 
Majesty, — the place of his feet made glorious. The pro- 
phets were, in truth, what the Bible terms them, seers. 
They beheld what to all but inspired men must ever be 
veiled in darkness — the future — whether it respects men or 
things. Their vision was immediately divine, comprising 
far more than the discovery of another world, or even the 
future of our own. It penetrated the naturally imisible of 
being ; it darted upward into heaven itself, and the vision 
from God was the vision of God, but chiefly of his charac- 
ter as a Supreme Ruler, and of his right and power to punish 
the guilty. 

Moreover, his wisdom is declared in the publication of 
his designs, — also his merciful disposition toward offenders, 
and the reluctance with which he proceeds to the work of 
destruction ; while with his threatenings are interspersed so 
many and pathetic admonitions to the duties of supplication 
and repentance. The complexion of prophecy is indeed 
predominantly terrible; it is the reflection of the divine 
countenance deeply expressive of displeasure, and it abounds 
in images of judicial majesty which may well strike terror 
into the stoutest heart. This feature of prophecy, however, 
is no impeachment of its veracity, nor distortion of the Divine 
character, but is necessarily derived to it from the condition 
of the world. It contains revelations of God suited to the 
relations which his creatures bear to him. It is a corres- 
pondence opened, not with innocency, but with guilt, — not 



12 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

with a loyal province of his empire, but with a race of rebels. 
Prophecy, as it thus stands, cannot be viewed as possessing 
only a local and temporary influence on the world, — as an 
affair of a nation or of an age only, — it is exponent of the^ 
divine administration generally. It is a divine mirror, fore- 
showing the moral images and destinies of nations through 
a long succession of ages ; types of debasement and ruin 
drawn out in the history of man, from that day to this, — 
and remaining yet to be fulfilled, not in a few more signal 
instances, respecting which theory and conjecture may go 
astray when they would divine the future, but as often as 
moral correspondences to prophecy shall present themselves 
to the eye of the great Ruler of nations, and the vials of his 
wrath shall have been poured upon them accordingly. 

In this more extended, but less usual view of prophecy, 
its vast utility becomes obvious, its divinity brightens on our 
vision, and its relation to the present and the future, as well 
as the past, renders it profoundly stirring. With its light 
thus beheld filling the circle of the world's epochs, it is em- 
phatically prophecy still ; and like the sun and moon, on 
Joshua's great day of triumph, hastes not to go down. 
The scenes of time, the grand drama in which all nations 
and even individuals take some part, and to whose catastro- 
phe all contribute something, are never withdrawn from its 
behests : "Its line is gone forth into all lands, and its words 
to the end of the world." Thus is its genius not particular, 
but universal ; nor can its interpretation be private, but 
public. Every separate prophecy is related to the general 
system, and in fulfilment, as well as character, is blended 
with it. It is like a soHtary fibre belonging to one vigorous 
and widely spreading root. It is a member of a grand 
family of inspired truths, ever teeming with historic facts, 
and accumulating with the progress of ages the proofs of 
an Almighty governance, and of itself as a record of Infinite 
Prescience. Hence the design of prophecy is not the in- 
struction of the Old Testament Church so much as of the 



PROPHECY. 13 

New. Eemote, ratlier tlian proximate ages were to appre- 
ciate this branch of revealed truth, and to perceive its force, 
drawn from a wider field of historic and moral accomplish- 
ment. To these, the long vista of antiquity was to appear 
as if formed by monumental records of prophetic truth, or 
as a path lettered over with the obsequies of empire, all vocal 
with its predestinations. To them, the past was as a vast 
scroll let down by a hand from heaven, to be more and 
more unfolded with the progress of our race; while the 
future also, though in many points but the reflection of the 
past, should be ^dewed as richer in the promise of a glorious 
issue, in the fully established reign of Christ, seciu-ing the 
peace and weal of the whole world. 

If these observations be just on the scheme of prophecy, 
it follows, that further discoveries of this kind, as of doc- 
trines, and moral precepts, would be superfluous. The con- 
tinuity of such a dispensation is opponent to its very nature. 
A record of principles and of precedents only, was needed 
for a testimony to all generations ; just as selections only are 
given by the evangehsts, of our Lord's discourses, or of the 
leadmg personages of early antecedent times. The vision 
is shut up and sealed, because sufficient hght has been shed 
upon the administration of the Supreme Governor. Fresh 
and extended examples could do no more than illustrate 
principles, and enforce the most potent lessons. For in- 
stance, no discoveries of the destinies of modern nations, or 
even of the Christian Church, however authenticated, could 
add to om- knowledge of the actual administration presiding 
over the world in our day, as in ages gone by. 

The perfection and the value of prophecy repose on the 
doctrine of the Divine ImmutabiHty, whether it respects the 
nature or the issues of the rule of its sovereignty. It is 
om's only to understand and apply the statements of God's 
word, to study the inspired precedents it contains, to bring 
its light upon the living mass of human beings, and upon 
the wide sphere of their agencies and interests. It is ours 



14 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

to inherit the wisdom of the prophets, as we do the doc- 
trines of apostles, without pretending to their extraordinary 
powers ; as the spiritual seed of both, though not their offi- 
cial successors, to share with them and the whole Churchr 
whether past, present, or to come, the boon of inspiration 
without its gift ; to drink of the streams of which they are 
the fountains ; to impersonate the truth of the sacred pages 
in our own individual minds ; and to render these ancient 
oracles lively and vocal in the wisdom and habits of Chris- 
tian men. To hear the Speech of God is to digest 
thoroughly the entu'e moral of prophecy : to compare its 
sayings, to analyze its descriptions, and to combine them 
into a sublime, living, practical science. The Speech of God 
is to us and all men, his providential action Scripturalfy 
interpreted. It rolls from the firmament in peals of thun- 
der, and is responded to in the murmurs of the heaving, 
hoary deep. It is heard in the tumult of the storm, and in 
the melodies of the vernal hour. All nature is but the 
organ of his voice, and instrument of his will. The vast 
and the minute, the celestial and the terraqueous, the in- 
animate and the living portions of the system, all variously 
speak of him ; the physical and the moral departments of 
providence appropriately declare him. The existence of 
the human race alone is a mighty oracle of God : the nature 
and powers of such a creature ; his wide diffusion and per- 
petuated succession ; the indefinite formation of individual 
minds, each of which is a separate world of thought, emo- 
tion, and interest ; the immortality that dignifies the meanest, 
and the destinies that impend on life's short breath ; the re- 
lations that bind men together ; the singular diversities of 
physical and mental character, consisting with a demonstra- 
ble identity of origin and blood ; the interminable progres- 
sions of civilized mind, and the prodigious creations of social 
energy ; the laws of life and of death — of waste and reno- 
vation implanted in the mass, and controlling bodies, as well 
as individual men ; the range of dominion given to man ; 



PROVIDENCE. 15 

the exquisite adaptation of his instincts, intellect, and moral 
powers to his position as one of social dependence, of religi- 
ous discipline, and of ultimate as well as present interests, 
are all direct and living expressions of the being and dominion 
of a God, whose image and subject universal man is ; while in 
the limitations and checks he has placed to the utter triumph 
of wickedness in man himself, — in the institutions of the 
social state, in the authority of the moral sentiments, in the 
rules of conventionahsm, the dictates of interest, or the an- 
tagonism of the vices themselves, — He has set bounds to the 
empire of evil, as he has to darkness, or the raging billows 
of the sea. 

In fact, the various modes in which he debates with evil — 
that fearful power which has a perpetual ascendency over 
man as he is — traversing by unexpected interpositions its 
mightiest laws, dissolving or enfeebling its most menacing 
combinations, and overruhng them for the promotion of op- 
posite ends, furnish decisive phenomena in favour of the 
grand regime which prophecy asserts, and which has its 
types in the mischiefs which are nature's brood, and the 
remedies which man is instructed to apply ; still, however, 
limited by such conditions, and subject to such contingencies, 
as make the sovereignty of the grand Arbiter, in all that 
concerns human life, most manifest. What is to us chance, 
is to Him more than foresight, — it is decree. His authority 
is illustrated, and his voice lifted up, so as to be as " the 
sound of many waters," or as the noise of a mighty host, 
by the complicated action of his creation. 

His sovereignty is not the less direct because less obvious 
in many assignable cases, or because his hand is hidden be- 
hind the mechanism of smTOimding nature, and conveys its 
stroke by angelic, by human, or even by an unconscious 
ministry. To imagine that God's wisdom can be frustrated, 
or his agency intercepted, by the intervention of a system 
he has expressly contrived to illustrate them, is a dictate of 
folly equally with irreligion. It is, in fact, not by a succes- 



16 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

sion of prodigies that his government is carried on, or his 
glory declared ; but in the disposition, actuation, and control 
of the several orders of his creatures, particularly of moral 
agents, capable of free, and, seemingly, contrary action;- 
not binding in bonds of necessity a nature emphatically free, 
but rendering all varieties of its action executive of the pre- 
destinations of his vrisdom, — so computing and apportioning 
their respective agencies, as to give to moral powers the 
balance of various physical forces, as they meet in the com- 
position of suns and systems ; and to impress upon the God- 
like nature of mind, an order of development as peculiarly 
its own, as are the phenomena of the material universe. 

The grand claim of prophecy is not more to anticipate 
futurity, than to explain facts. Its office is that of a divine 
interpreter of providential mysteries. It withdraws us from 
the wide scenes of tumult and disorder, from which bewil- 
derment and scepticism would probably ensue, leading us 
into the temple where the Divinity is enthroned, uttering 
his oracles distinctly to the calm and reverent heart : ''Be 
still, and know that I am God." This is the compendium 
of his teachings, and the perfection of our privilege. This 
is an immensely superior position for vision than a mountain 
height which could command the boundaries of all king- 
doms, or a tower which contained the archives of creation. 
We are thus ushered at once into His presence, and see His 
glory, which grows the fainter as distance is measured from 
this holy centre; and we hear the majestic voice which 
worlds obey, and which all creatures equally with cherubim 
resound, but cannot, like them, articulate. The Temple alone 
contains the perfect glory, and the perfect oracle, which, 
in its widening expansion, is broken by intervening hills and 
dales into feeble echoes ; languishing, as it travels, like the 
dying gale, or melting as music, in the air, when drawn 
from the strings of an eeohan lyre. Hence, to those who 
possess not this divine and ever-living oracle ; and yet more, 
to those who proudly spurn it as imposture, history and 



MORAL GOVERNMENT. Il 

events speak in vain. Tliey cannot understand the language 
of providence, nor learn ''the manifold wisdom of God/' 
of which the world, and not the church only, is the chosen 
seat of display. To these the vision is sealed, like the words 
of the prophet to an ureligious and imbruted people. The 
interest which should be awakened by this wonderful mys- 
tery of God, is as an urgent appeal directed by his voice, 
through the prophet to a man, delivering him a book ; say- 
ing, ''Read this, I pray thee;'' who replies, "I cannot, for 
it is sealed." And again to another, with a similar request, 
who says, " I cannot, for I am not learned ;" or as it is still 
more strikingly illustrated by the great book beheld by the 
seer of Patmos, which it is the Lamb's sole prerogative to 
open, and office of his chui'ch to proclaim to the world. As 
the plan of creation was a book delivered into the hands of 
the Son by the Eternal Father, to transcribe into being, and 
to open a previously inscrutable mystery in the glorious 
scenes of a material and spirited universe ; so is the vast 
and awful volume of his administration, which has been con- 
signed to him in his last and highest office as the Redeemer 
of men. The disruption of each seal of its hidden policy, 
emits a sound which vibrates through the heights and depths 
of his empire, and is responded to by mighty thunders, and 
the voices of living creatures. It is the pronunciation of a 
sovereign fiat — the successive issue of decrees, to which all 
things haste the response, "It is done," and to crown with 
the still higher voice of praise : " And every creature which 
is in heaven, and on the earth, and such as are in the sea, 
and all that are in them, heard I, saying. Blessing, and ho- 
nour, and glory, and power be unto Him that sitteth upon the 
throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever." 

Thus it appears that to hear the speech of God, is not 
the exclusive honour of angels, much less of prophets, or the 
college of mspired men ; it is the honour and the duty of the 
Avhole Church of Christ; and it exalts us to the noblest 
fellowships, both of earth and heaven; agreeably to the 



18 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

sublimely catholic address of the angel to the beloved John, 
*' I am thy fellow-servant, and of thy brethren the prophets, 
and of them which keep the sayings of this book." The 
truth of God, as bound up with the creation, government, 
and destinies of our world, is the common bond of his ser- 
vants, and the common heritage of his children ; it identifies 
them with every vehicle of its delivery, and every epoch of 
its publication. Its recorded facts and principles contain 
the rudiments of a science to be expanded in higher states 
of being, and, like God himself, to inhabit eternity and fill 
the universe. 

The single reflection, that it contains the pohcy of the 
Supreme Ruler respecting the condition and prospects of a 
world, may suffice to suggest how low and little all acquisi- 
tion must be where the track of the Infinite is to be followed, 
extending over innumerable ages, and traversing every por- 
tion of the globe ; and also, how inconceivable must be the 
change in the future capacity and position of the human 
mind which shall enable it to overtake such a subject as 
this ; to generalize without limit, and to reason without er- 
ror ; when the history of a nation, the events of a century, 
or even the government of the world, shall be more cor- 
rectly understood, than are now the concerns of an individual 
man ; and when the analysis of a system so vast and com- 
plicated, shall be more perfectly attained than the consti- 
tuents of an animal or a flower are by the most accom- 
plished man of science. 

But it is required that the temper of mind appropriate to 
the reception of divine oracles be declared : "I have heard 
thy speech, and was afraid." The expression is indicative 
of more than mere reverence for the divine majesty, even 
the impression with which we may conceive the mind to 
have been possessed by the reception of a divine message, 
whether conveyed by a voice, by angelic ministry, by vision, 
or by a certain mysterious impulse from the Divinity, as 
much distinguished from the mind's own laws of converse 



INSPIRATION AND ITS EFFECTS. 19 

with itself, as is the touch of a fellow's hand from our own, 
or conversation with another mind by means of the tongue, 
or even the expression of the face is, from the abstract men- 
tal processes going on within, and of which no being is con- 
scious but ourselves. 

When an apostle declares of the prophets, "that holy 
men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost," 
a certain purely internal and strong action of the Divine 
Spirit on the mind is expressed; an afflatus or breathing 
upon, as anciently it was expressed, when individuals were 
described as preternaturally influenced so as to give forth 
oracles from superior powers. It amounted to a possession 
of the mind temporally, and for an especial purpose, by the 
divinity, an ecstacy or entrancement, a brief introduction of 
the spiritual man to a more vivid and awful sense of the 
divine presence ; or it was a sudden and perfectly distinct 
conveyance of a message or a fact to the mind of the indi- 
-".idual, even while in company with other men, or engaged 
in the ordinaiy business of life. Instantly the seclusion of 
the mind was broken in upon by its Author ; the particular 
train of thought, of feeling, and of pm-pose, was interrupted, 
just as it might be by the entrance and communication of 
a fellow mortal to one when alone. It was suggestion as 
strong, and as perfectly an^ayed in words, as if addressed 
to the ear itself. It was purely a mental correspondence, 
which, vfhen closed, left the man in his usual condition of 
mental independence, and with the obligation to communicate 
the messao-e without mistake. But whatever mode of com- 

o 

mmiication the Deity chose to employ, it gave the individual 
intrusted with it a peculiarly sacred character, not only to 
his fellows, but to himself. The preliminary visitations must 
have been startling, and some more special revelations, over- 
whelming. Such were the inaugural \dsions of Isaiah, of 
Ezekiel, Daniel, and even the beloved John. One was com- 
pelled to utter loudly his woe, while under the burden of 
the vision revealing to him his corruption, as well as authen- 



20 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

ticating liis commission. Another declares tliat when he 
heard the voice that spake with him, he fell upon his face ; 
another, that when he saw that great vision of the political 
fortunes of the world, but particularly of his own afflicted 
nation, that there remained no strength in him, and that his 
comeliness was turned into corruption. John, when he saw 
him, fell at his feet as one dead ; and Habakkuk tells us, 
that his belly trembled, his voice quivered, and that rotten- 
ness entered into his bones. To man, as he is physically 
constituted, separated from every other order of being beside 
his own — conscious also of guilt and of moral disorder — 
supernatural tokens and correspondences become the subjects 
of scepticism, or the basis of a dark and disturbing supersti- 
tion. To the one class of minds, constitutionally firm, super- 
ficially philosophic, or thoroughly irreligious, man is viewed 
as perfectly insulated from every nature but his own, and 
the system of sensible things around him, to the disallowance 
of every kind of unseen ministry which revelation affirms, 
and reason might regard as probable ; while to them, prac- 
tically, the Deity himself is converted into a distant and 
powerless abstraction. By the other class, natm-e is not re- 
garded with an intelligent confidence, — she is viewed as if 
perpetually disturbed by the magician's wand; — not so 
much an embodiment of existence, as the shadow of an oc- 
cult and unfriendly something behind herself. Her powers 
are undefined, as objects seen in the twilight, or bedewed 
by a wintry haze. She abounds in prodigies and portents. 
Her auguries and divinations peer out everywhere ; imagina- 
tion forms and colours its own gods, and prostrates the trem- 
bling spirit before idols of its own creation; ''men fear 
where no fear is." A slavish and heart-withering terror is 
the penalty of this device of human folly, which supplants 
the Deity in the trust and homage of his creatures. Even 
where corruptions of truth do not involve a denial of the 
grand fundamentals of religion, as in the church of Rome, 
tlic indefinite multiplication of subordinate mediators and 



REMOTE FROM PHILOSOPHY AND SUPERSTITION. 21 

tutelary personages, whether in priests on earth or saints in 
heaven, must brand every form of superstition with the fea- 
tures of a moral tyranny. They are unfriendly to the true 
Hberty and happiness of man : his only rest is in the tute- 
lage of ONE, whose name, expressive of all perfection, is 
a refuge for the weakness and fears of his creatures ; whose 
universal presence is the extension of a sovereignty limiting 
the existence and powers of all agency whatever ; compel- 
ing all to league together for the peace of His people, and 
to take their stand within the circle described by the bonds 
of His covenant. 

It is the glorious property of an enlightened religious fear, 
to disabuse the mind of every form of superstitious terror, 
and to supplant it with the noblest principles. It teaches 
us to contemn vanities, placing before us One, who is, in- 
deed, "greatly to be feared;" not one among the many 
claimants for our worship, but One who demands the whole, 
as his exclusive right. He is not the cliief of the gods, but 
*' God alone." His being, though the greatest mystery, is 
the first and necessary truth. His existence includes all 
others, though excluded from them all. His essence, funda- 
mental to nature, is yet no part of it, — whether consisting of 
material or spiritual substances expanded into systems, or 
presented in the many gradations of individual intelhgence, 
or possessing powers of traduction by which an endless suc- 
cession of things or persons, in exact resemblance, may be 
derived from a first type. Nature, thus stated, is not the 
extension of the divine essence — the communication of Deity 
to whatever is : — it is a creation, not an emanation ; a work, 
not a bu'th. It is not a spontaneous and necessary issue, 
a development of some great, eternal principle, and a con- 
stituent of its perfection, — but ^performance resulting from 
design ; from a sovereign predestination deliberating on the 
" to be" or " not to be," as a question with Itself alone ; and 
also under what conditions and for what ends, — agreeably 
to the anthem of the elders, " Thou hast created all things ; 



22 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

for thy pleasure they are and were created." He who made 
all things, necessarily governs all things ; and his claims to 
be feared, equally arise from the illimitable greatness of his 
being, as well as from the character of his judgments. Nor 
is it to be forgotten that the highest worship offered to him, 
as declared in Scripture, is deeply reverential and awful 
worship. The views which even the most exalted creatures 
have of him, lead up this feeling to an inconceivable height, 
imparting a tone of solemnity to their adoration all but bui*- 
densome. Fear and religion, in its most perfect and eternal 
form, will be indissoluble : nor are our own views tinithful, 
but as they inspire us ^'with reverence and godly fear;" 
nor the phrase, the feeling, the actions of our religion be- 
coming, but as they are pervaded by the impressions of the 
awful. How natural, yet sublime, the language, " I heard 
thy speech and was afraid !" 

But the expression has especial reference to the nature 
of the message conveyed, as well as to the majesty of Him 
who spake it. They were awful words which God spake. 
A grievous burden was declared. A vision was opened to 
the seer, which dissolved his soul in teiTor and dismay. He 
heard sentence passed on his own loved country, for its in- 
veterate, and irreclaimable wickedness. It was not the de- 
struction of an individual, of a family, or of a city that was 
threatened, — but of a whole nation. The quarter from 
which the invasion should arise ; the character, an-ay, and 
overwhelming might of the aiTay commissioned to destroy ; 
the eager onslaught and unmitigable fury of these disciplined 
and fanatical murderers; the carnage, as well as the con- 
clusion of a warfare, the object of which was spoliation, cap- 
tivity, and ruin to the conquered party ; particularly when 
the enemy, flushed with a long succession of \dctories, and 
proficient in the diabolic arts of licensed cruelty, were en- 
raged by long opposition from their despairing prey, and 
the almost preternatural efforts of an expiring patriotism — 
such a vision, and such a sentence, must have been incon- 



HISTORICALLY REGISTERED. 23 

ceivably affecting to a tenderly patriotic and religious spirit ; 
as in the instances of other prophets, particularly Jeremiah, 
to whom the tumultuous and appalling scenes of war seemed 
at hand. The tread and the shouting of the vast hosts were 
sounding in their ears — clouds of dust, raised by the feet of 
so many myriads of horses, were the harbingers of their dire- 
ful approach, as bands of locusts overcasting with darkness 
the sky of a whole country — a paradise before, and a desert 
in their rear. But God had summoned them, and his voice 
was lifted high above this dreadful host, as from the heavenly 
firmament it falls upon the legions of the sons of light. It 
is His hand that is stretched forth to destroy, and His sword 
that thirsts for blood. Cities are captured, pillaged, and 
bmut, as if in succession seized by a devouring flame — 
strongholds are demohshed by the engines of the siege — ^the 
whole country is depopulate^d and undone. The flocks are 
forsaken — the ground untilled — the defenceless, hunted, pal- 
pitating, remnant flee to the capital, soon gorged by the 
miserable wreck of a nation's glory. Here famine overtakes 
them, and the pestilence becomes more cruel than the sword 
— theh strength fails — the instruments of war drop from 
their hands — even natm-al instincts and domestic bonds 
perish in the strife for life ; till at length hope itself expires 
— the enemy as a demon enters, in either hand is his firebrand 
and his slaughter- weapon — and vengeance stretches its line 
over the silent, smouldering ruins of gates, palaces, and above 
all, of the temple itself ! 

Such, in brief, was the event which filled the prophet 
with terror and distress — one which, perhaps, (with the soli- 
tary exception of its latter counterpart in Jerusalem's de- 
struction by the Romans under Titus) has been followed by 
no parallel in the history of mankind, fearful as have been 
the ravages of war, and thick the disastrous vicissitudes 
which have marked the career of nations : *' For this is the 
purpose," says one, " that is purposed on the whole earth, 
and this the hand that is stretched out upon all nations." 



24 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

The august reflection of the prophet on these dismal tidings, 
cannot be too deeply pondered. '' Lord, thou hast or- 
dained them for judgment, and, mighty God, thou hast 
estabUshed them for correction." " Thou art of purer eyes 
than to behold evil, and canst not look upon iniquity." 

Such is the fundamental doctrine of the divine economy, 
and the grand oracle of prophecy, echoed and re-echoed 
from the dark, agitated abyss of the world's political con- 
dition, and prolonged from age to age, as if in response to 
the antiphon of seraphs, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of 
hosts : the whole earth is full of His glory." To swell this 
proclamation, the voices of all lands have joined, and the 
whole creation, which ^' groaneth and travaileth in pain to- 
gether until now." These hurricanes which have swept over 
the bosom of the world's society, evoking forms of terror 
from its chaotic mass — in the career and the issue of invasion 
— ^the fresh distribution of territory, and the transfer of 
power into other hands — the scourges of famine — the deadly 
waftings of the breath of pestilence, hurrying multitudes to 
the grave — the permission of many and afflictive social evils 
— the various contingent mischiefs blending with public 
good, in the development of mind and the progress of society 
— the reverses which overtake communities and families, as 
well as individuals, in the career of prosperity, against which 
no foresight can provide — the bright visions of coming ad- 
vancement and general happiness, so often exchanged, as a 
fair morning for tempest and rain — the grievous fmlure of 
legislation and statesman-like sagacity in providing remedies 
for acknowledged evils, or promoting the national weal, — 
are all punitive demonstrations of the Holy One. He has 
ordained them for judgment, and estabhshed them for cor- 
rection. There is no nation on the face of the earth where 
his signs have not been displayed, within the memory of 
the living generation. They have been beheld in the politi- 
cal hemisphere of Europe, traced as in characters of fire 
and lines of blood. It has been a theatre upon which all 



IN RECENT JUDICIAL VISITATIONS. 25 

its nations have been summoned to take their stations, and 
to act their pai-ts. National convulsions and social changes 
have happened, which, for number and the magnitude of 
their effects, have been unequalled in the history of mankind. 
Nations have been permitted to exhaust themselves in long, 
expensive, and sanguinary wars. The line of the battle-field 
has been drawn around every European state but our own ; 
and the gigantic contests in which all mingled for nearly a 
quarter of a centuiy, shook the mightiest kingdoms to their 
centre, and filled all ranks of citizens with astonishment and 
dread. Nor has the great, but we may fear the almost un- 
consciously enjoyed blessing of a profound and almost uni- 
versal peace, which seems to have followed this horrible era 
of strife, as if, by some angel's hand, the demon of destruc- 
tion had been bound with a chain and cast into the bottom- 
less pit, been, at least, as yet, hke the opening morning of 
the latter-day glory. Peace, though it has multiplied the 
nations, has not proportionably *' increased the joy." Social 
evils, to a great extent, remain uncoiTected ; and notices of 
pubhc discontent, and pohtical instability, frequent and 
widely spread, show that an element is yet wanting to the 
thorough well-being of the most ci^iHzed communities, which 
neither intelHgence nor patriotism can supply ; and the viru- 
lent workmgs of a disease which yields to no remedies of 
merely human origin.* 

Nor can we pass over the more rare, yet more striking, 
oracles of judgment which God has spoken to the nations. 

In recent times, he has spoken in a mysterious and mortal 
disease, which, issuing from the far-distant east, bestrid seas 
and continents with murderous haste, as the veiy personifica- 
tion of that being who slew the first-bom of Egypt — charged 
with the dreadful commission to devastate the whole earth. 
At his rumoured approach from the same quarter, and pm'- 
suing his fonner track, the voice of alann is still sounding ; 
the rattling of his quiver has been heard in coimtries com- 
'-^ Written before the late Continental convulsions. 



26 THE SPEECH OF GOD. 

paratively near to our own, and the poison of his shafts has 
already entered many a victim's heart. A warning has 
been loudly uttered to prepare for a visitation, to avert which, 
all human power is as unavailing as that which would divert 
the course of the wind, or as that of David and his people, 
when the avenging angel had drawn his sword over their 
devoted land."^ 

'Nor should it be forgotten how menacing and monitory 
were the aspects of Providence during the past year ; how 
portentous were the signs of divine governing displeasure; 
and how powerfully were the lessons of human dependence 
upon the mercy of God, for the very means of life's sub- 
sistence, reiterated. After a long succession of years of 
plenty, during a season of profound peace, with all the ad- 
vantages of international communication, and with every 
stimulus given to commerce by the prospect of unhmited 
gains, how nearly was Europe reduced to the horrors of a 
famine ! how tardily did the year seem to revolve till the 
supplies of the coming harvest were secured ! and with what 
interest and anxious anticipation were the appearances of 
the growing blade regarded ! The joy of harvest, in this in- 
stance, was heightened by the feelings vfhich arise from an 
escape from an impending calamity, whose shadow had 
been spread over a continent, and whose weight would have 
crushed the strength, and consigned much of the life of em- 
pires to the dust. At this season the mercy that mitigated 
the visitation, was as striking as the power that brought it 
upon the nations ; while the sudden, and perfect arrest of 
the ordinance, was more impressively instructive than were 
the severity of its effects.* 

In an age of expanding activity, of advancing and popu- 
larized philosophy, of general application of talent to every 
question involving human interests, or the possible develop- 
ments of nature's resources, the subsistence of the immense 

*•' Each of these references is now considerably post-dated ; -when 
■written they were nearly synchronic. 



SPECIALLY CORRECTIVE. 27 

masses of humanity, comprising nations, which is in reality 
so grand a display of the Creator's beneficent power, was 
regarded as a common and unappreciated fact, the explana- 
tion of which was to be found in the unchanging efficacy of 
natural laws, aided by the industry and the art of man. 
Of these there was no felt distrust, or suspicion of contingent 
results ; no realizing belief of the simple instrumentahty of 
nature as the work of an Almighty Being, and of its strict 
subservience to His will, much less of His providence being 
a demonstration of His moral empire over man, and a system 
for upholding it. Upon the extinction of idolatry, the ten- 
dency of the mind, especially when in a progressive state, 
is toward a practical and even speculative atheism. An 
extended acquaintance with physical science, as implying 
the knowledge of secondary causes, brings to the inquiring 
mind a satisfaction, and a rest, which render the grand doc- 
trine of a First Cause less a subject of interest. Everything 
is accounted for, on natural grounds only ; supematuralism, 
and sovereign interposition, are suppositions practically dis- 
carded, or even theoretically so, because it is imagined, that 
the existing system thus opened to man may operate every 
phenomenon without them. In this condition of European 
mind, we cannot be at fault to divine the especial reason and 
end of the late remarkable visitation. It was the sudden 
and loud enforcement of the doctrine of a morally corrective 
Providence, which had well-nigh slipped away from the cog- 
nizance of men, and by many impiously denied — a revelation 
of God in his grand characters of a Benefactor, and Governor 
over the world— a truth to which men had slept, while in- 
tent only upon securing the general or individual good of 
the present life, or idolatrously doting upon the all-sufficiency 
of man himself. 

In the absence, or only partial diffusion of religion through 
the world, it remains for God to enforce its lessons by his 
providence ; to vindicate the truth of his word by appeals 
to sense, and to maintain his authority by a public controversy 



128 THE SPEECH OF GOD.' 

witli the nations. It is by overt, and perliaps terrible, action 
that he seeks to right this great doctrine, on which all reli- 
gion depends, in the sight of the world ; to restore it to the 
supremacy from which it has been deposed ; to rebuke men 
for their idolatrous, or atheistic imaginings ; to bring down 
their lordly pride and tovf ering impiety to the dust ; to show 
that HE giveth " life, and breath, and all things ;'' and that 
guilt has no shield which can repel his weapons, and his 
creatures no power to screen themselves from his displeasure, 
but in the supplications that disarm his vengeance, and con- 
strain his pity. 

The proper temper with which to regard these, and similar 
events, is that of deep, practical reverence for God, and the 
evidences of his moral administration. They embody Bible 
doctrines, they verify prophecy, and are intended to bring 
His truth with freshness and power to the heart. The true 
Christian temper is utterly remote from melancholy, or 
misanthropy. It is not that stern and unsympathizing mould 
of feeling, which might be created by a specific and known 
sentence of destruction, passed upon a people, such as that 
which Joshua knew to have issued against the seven nations 
of Canaan ; or which prophets were required to pronounce 
publicly against then- own, or contemporary kingdoms. It 
is no harsh, dogmatic temper, impatient of controversy, on 
the application of principles mutually allowed ; or arrogating 
to itself infallibility in discerning *' the signs of the times.'* 
It does not exclude the testimony of the past, or the present, 
in favour of the brighter aspects of the di\dne economy ; or 
the weight of the doctrine which places the affairs of the 
world solely in the hands of the Mediator. Nor is it un- 
mindful, that the Apocalypse is the Lamb's own book ; and 
that, though its trumpet blast forth notes of terror, and the 
angels, bearing vials of wrath, proclaim successive woes, the 
rainbow surmounts the throne, and smiles in varied bright- 
ness above the wild avenging storm. It is fear, not incon- 
sistent with confidence and hope, holding no affinity with 



THE WORK or GOD. 29 

superstition, or mawkisli dread. Its effect is not to enthrone 
despondency, or to paralyze effort. It prompts alike to 
prayer, and exertion — enhancing the value of an interest 
with Supreme Power, from the known certainty of the preva- 
lence of intercession. It magnifies the promises in our eyes, 
and while it bows us in the dust, imparts vigour to the grasp, 
which takes hold of even Jehovah's strength — and moves 
the Power that sways the world. 



CHAPTER II. 
THE WORK OF GOD. 

*' Lord, revive thy work." 

The expression, "thy work," is appHcable to providential 
movements, particularly to judicial exactions ; yet more emi- 
nently it is apphcable to religion, viewed both in its form 
and principle. Undoubtedly its primary reference here is 
to the polity of the Jewish people. It glances at the 
patriarchal covenants of which they were the heirs. At 
their birth in, and disentanglement as a nation from, the 
land of Egypt, by a seiies of prodigies, terrible and all 
compelling — an event graphically described by Ezekiel, 
chap. xvi. 

Theii' political and ecclesiastical economies were imme- 
diately God's creation; and, agreeably to this idea, the 
prophetic language is framed, " I have made thee, I have 
formed thee, I have created thee :" that is, in the pecuhar 
sense of a separated and covenant people. We have only 
to refer to the inspired books, containing then' history and 
the law delivered to Moses, the tables of stone engraved by 
the finger of God, the ark and the tabernacle, with all their 
precious furniture, made precisely according to a di^ane pat- 
tern, to perceive the truth of this remark. The nation was 
neither settled nor governed — but by the immediate super- 



30 THE WORK OF GOD. 

vision of a divine sovereignty. Its constitution could not be 
infringed, its institutions admitted no modifications. A divine 
immutability was stamped upon the priesthood, to transgress 
which involved the evidence and guilt of apostasy. The 
exact and unswerving obedience of all was imposed by a 
solemn compact ; their polity, both in church and state, bore 
the glory of a theocracy, a glory never shared by any other 
people. Their very territory was held by a di^dne title, and 
their whole social fabric so compacted by divine art, as to 
stand or fall together. The prayer of the prophet, therefore, 
to God to revive, or, perhaps, more literally, to keep alive 
his work in the midst of the years, plainly points to the ap- 
proaching disaster of the captivity, and its apprehended peril 
to the existence of his people : at least with their ancestral 
faith, and covenant institutions, during so unprecedented a 
trial. The prayer seems to include a desire for the nation's 
preservation, politically and religiously, when expelled from 
its home soil, and suffering a strange infraction of its organi- 
zation, and suspension of its vital functions, whether in church 
or state. 

To human apprehension it might have become finally ex- 
tinct, as a tree torn from its hold on its native earth, and 
broken by the fury of the blast, as well as the superin- 
cumbent weight of its foliage, becomes incapable of being 
replanted, and hes a wreck where it fell. Considering the 
condition of the captivating power, the completeness with 
which they had done the business of destruction, the im- 
probability that the condition of the poHtical world would 
be so altered as to allow the return of any portion of the 
poor captive race to their country ; but especially consider- 
ing the inveterate corruption of the people themselves, their 
desperate proneness to idolatry, and the temptations under 
which they would he to abjure the religion of their fore- 
fathers, and for convenience and favour to symbolize with 
the superstitions of their conquerors; this was no ill- 
grounded apprehension. 



THE JEWISH CHURCH. 31 

To this crisis the prophet looked forward as one without 
a parallel in the history of his nation — the captivity of the 
ten tribes only excepted — of whose return to their land, to 
form an independent kingdom, there was not the smallest 
hope. The dread of such an issue was oppressive, and the 
prophet supplicates, on the most prevalent ground of ap- 
peal to God, for a mitigation of the judgment, and a resto- 
ration from the captivity, that they were his oivn work. 
Their ancestry, history, and destiny, stood alone in glory in 
the annals of all time ; their sins and deserts had been aggra- 
vated beyond all example ; but their destruction was depre- 
cated, on the consideration that God's own work would in 
them be destroyed, and his glory obscured in the eyes of 
after generations ; as it would have been by their destruc- 
tion in the wilderness, when Moses so touchingly interceded 
for, and obtained their pardon. 

IS'or can it be reasonably doubted, that the entreaties of 
prophets, together with the whole company of the faithful 
in the nation, often, indeed, but a small residue, both be- 
fore and during the darkest period of the nation's fortunes, 
carried the cause of the restoration with God, as well as 
procured favourable tokens while the dispersion lasted. 
The revival of his work, thus prayed for, was probably sig- 
nified in connexion with private, or joint supplication, — and 
at various seasons, in new or amplified promise. It seems, 
too, highly probable that religion, in a spiritual and per- 
sonal sense, was greatly revived during the years of the 
captivity ; and that this prolonged term of all but national 
extinction, was rendered more fruitful in examples of indi- 
vidual godliness, and in the production of a genuine reform, 
than had been the efforts of theh best kings, or the alternate 
disasters and returns of prosperity which their history sets 
forth. The visitation which depopulated and scattered them 
was as the excision of the branches of a vine or fruit-bearing 
tree, too extensively blighted or cankered to be remedied 
by the appHcation of the pinining-knife, — all must be re- 



32 THE WORK OF GOD. 

moved but the root and stock, wliicli afterwards send out a 
healthy progeny of branches to replace the former, and to 
bear fruit in abundance ; or it was as the oriental custom of 
threshing the sheaf, by exposing it to the heavy, crushing 
tread of oxen, after vv^hich the operation was perfected by 
the shovel lifting the contents of the floor to the action of 
the wind, which speedily dissipated the chaff, leaving the 
clean grain in store for use. 

Thus the dire measure of the captivity Vv^as the sole re- 
maining expedient for preventing the destruction of this 
corrupt people. The nation, ruined in its political interests, 
despoiled of its sovereignty, wealth, and power, and reduced 
numerically to a mere handful of people, was purified and 
regenerated by this terrible process ; and, to use another 
prophet's language, the ''holy seed" was ''the substance 
thereof," though it was " as an oak" whose leaf had fallen, 
or as the "teal tree" when browsed by the cattle. The 
basis of a long, and, comparatively, religious restoration, 
w^as laid by this harmonious operation of the providence and 
the Spuit of God. 

A new race of men, schooled and reared in the shades 
of adversity, sprang up, w^ho carried from Babylon to Judea 
a treasure infinitely more sacred and precious than the ves- 
sels of silver and gold which Nebuchadnezzar had pillaged 
from the temple, in the days of their fathers :— the treasure 
of principles acquired under the rod of the divine correction, 
and the hand of the Spirit — a deep detestation of idolatry, 
and a lasting repudiation of heathenism, which, like a ser- 
pent, had fascinated their forefathers with its eye, and de- 
stroyed them with its poisoned sting. With all their faults 
they never reverted to this evil. To their law, religion, and 
polity they were ever after enthusiastically attached ; their 
Scriptures were held in the highest veneration, and guarded 
with the most scrupulous care. Their heroism in defence 
of these most valued interests in after times was never sur- 
passed ; and multitudes of them, in times of persecution. 



THE JEWISH CHURCH. 33 

suffered death, in its most revolting forms, rather than 
abandon their faith, and defile their consciences with spiritual 
adultery. 

The work of God, in every age, is emphatically his 
CHURCH, founded, first, upon the promise of the Messiah; 
and, secondly, upon his manifestation in his person, office, 
and work. The preservation of the Jews as a distinct peo- 
ple, both from a regard to then- history or their religion, as 
bound up with it, might have been a sufficient object with 
Divine Providence to insure the answer of the prophetic 
prayer (itself the very symphony of patriotic and inspired 
piety) ; but this, abstractedly taken, could hardly be viewed 
as paramount. Judaism was not so necessarily to exist on 
its ovm. account, so much as on account of what should arise 
out of it. Its grsLiid futu7'e results were looked to by its 
Author; and our Lord himself has, in a single sentence, 
condensed the truth which ruled the whole history and des- 
tiny of the nation, as well as declared its glory, — " Salva- 
tion is of the Jews." This entail could not be cut oiOf, nor 
this fruit perish, by a premature destruction of the nation. 
It was the one boon which the whole world needed, and 
which was to develop and ripen within this enclosure of 
divine wisdom, till it might be plucked and handed round 
the world. This treasure, possessed in covenants, promises, 
oaths, types, and sacraments, was a divine insurance to the 
people holding it — an indestructible germ of life. It was, 
in principle, a resurrection to be repeated as oft as a political 
death should seize upon them ; and, unhke the Apocalyptic 
vision, reserving its highest glory for the last, rather than 
the first resurrection. 

To preserve and to revive His work, therefore, involved 
the petition for its last and most sublime issue, in a fully 
revealed and pubhshed Christianity — as the fibrous mem- 
branes of a seed enclosing some precious germ, which, 
though destined to be dissolved in the earth, in the progress 

of its life, nevertheles scannot be peeled off while it con- 

2* 



34 THE WORK OF GOD. 

tinues a bare grain, lest the harvest should perish by its 
mutilation. Conformably with this view, it may be regarded 
as probable, that the nation's existence is still included in the 
plan for a fully developed Christianity, as it was in its eco- 
nomic preparation ; and that it combines within itself, con- 
sidered as past and future, the glory of the seed and the 
harvest together. This cause and effect almost alike range 
within this one wonderful people, as it respects the Work, 
immeasurably ahead of every other, in which God manifests 
himself. Their former restoration was preparatory to the 
ushering in of the existence of the kingdom of heaven, — 
their future one, to its final establishment. The one, to the 
perfect form in which God would unfold his work, — the 
other, to its grand consummation in the cathohc extension 
and fulness of His church. Thus the prayer may be con- 
sidered as evangelically prophetic of the second and more 
dreadful fate of Jerusalem, and the de-nationalization con- 
sequent upon that frightful tragedy; when a polity, for 
ages intact, and associated with every prestige that could 
insure stabiHty and renown, was destroyed, never to be, in 
that form, restored; and the church, which stood Hke the 
mountain on which its worship was performed with so much 
magnificence, was overthrown, as with the shock of an earth- 
quake, never to be re-edified on its old foundation. Yet, 
how wonderfully was the work of God kept alive ! A new 
temple was marked out by the revelation of the Spirit, and 
by the hands of apostles, ere the old one had fallen, or its 
lamps and its glory had expired. 

In the midst of this olden grandeur, all but defunct, there 
lay and breathed a new form of heavenly life. From the 
desolations of Zion there sprang forth a more beautiful and 
lasting impersonation of Truth. The New Jerusalem was 
born and cradled as the final effort of a mother doomed 
either to die, or to suffer the shame and misery of a divorce 
for her cruel hatred of her own offspring. The event re- 
ferred to is one of the most extraordinary dispensations of 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 85 

Providence on record, and in wonderful accordance with tlie 
prayer of prophecy, — " in wrath remember mercy/' — which 
may be understood, either as regarding the end to be an- 
swered in the judgment, or the mitigated character of the 
infliction itself. Considered in reference to the nation at 
large, it was mixed with mercy, though awfully severe, in- 
asmuch as it did not abound to its utter extermination, but 
allowed its preservation in a separate form, and with the 
concomitancy of its peculiarities, — thus impressing, even 
upon their scattered and uncovenanted condition, the traces 
of their former greatness as the people of God ; hke the 
majesty of an olden royal dynasty, still lingering on the 
countenances of its humiliated descendants, as the fainter 
rays of a departing sun, and with presage of their final re- 
storation. Such is the national view of the prayer, and such 
the answer which Providence has recorded before the eyes 
of all people. 

But the deeper, though secondary, import of it, is found 
in the immediate subserviency of the judgment to the spread 
and prosperity of Christianity in the world. The actual 
preservation of its disciples and leaders during the fatal crisis ; 
the destruction of a body, politic and ecclesiastical, essentially 
and intensely persecuting ; the dissolution of a religious sys- 
tem, whose claims and administration rendered it perniciously 
fascinating to multitudes professing the Christian name ; the 
Ichabod with which it was branded in the sight of the world ; 
the impaired confidence and zeal with which its advocates 
could insist upon conformity to its peculiar rites as necessary 
to salvation; the perfect and independent form in which, 
from that hour, Christianity stood before the world, — unen- 
cumbered, elastic, catholic, in its every mood and feature, 
— in all its instincts, sympathies, and operations, — " knowing 
no man after the flesh ;'* and seeking and estimating only 
the new creature as its end, and thus more fully qualified 
to pursue its immediate and chief destiny in its long and wide 
reception by Gentile nations, — its patrons and propagators 



30 THE WORK OF GOD. 

when the representatives of its progenitors should follow it 
only with their execrations and blasphemies. In these fore- 
sights of Almighty God, in behalf of His work, we mark the 
predominance of His mercy, and the resources of His wis- 
dom, still abounding, as ages have elapsed and centuries 
closed since the days of its first propagation, as if this prayer 
was never spent, nor its heritage of answers limited. Its 
strain has become louder as the voices of apostles have been 
added to those of the prophets ; and these have been swelled 
into full chorus by those of martyrs, and confessors, and the 
whole company of the faithful, from that day until now. 
How constrained, and how pregnant, such a prayer to those 
who, gifted by the Spuit with deep foresight of the futm-e, 
beheld the unfolding mystery of iniquity, and reign of " the 
man of sin," — who discerned the dense darkness of the mid- 
dle ages as smoke issuing from the bottomless pit ; the de- 
vastating career of Abaddon, and his scorpion-tailed horse- 
men; the death of the witnesses; the desecration of the 
temple ; and the flight of the woman into the wilderness ! 
Supposing the prophetic spirit, given to the apostles, to have 
afforded them no more light than their writings do to us : 
yet, how strange, how heart- sickening, must such a future 
have seemed to them — the long, fitful, horrid interval be- 
tween their age and the period of final purity and blessed- 
ness ! With such views, the j)reservation of religion through 
so many ages, and so many struggles, could only be hoped 
for as the result of an ever-remembered, patient, and mighty 
mercy, bound to the world by the death of the Son of God, 
and returning the incense of His golden censer, offered with 
the prayers of all saints, in gusts of blessing on the earth. 
From this strain of remark, it will sufficiently appear what 
is meant by the work of God. It is the work of Christ as 
related by the evangelists, and unfolded by the apostles. 
It is the redemption of the world by the sacrificial and 
atoning death of the cross, with every doctrine, influence, 
arrangement, and instnmient arising out of this one great 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS SPIRITUALITY. 37 

«vent. It is Scriptiirally-revealed Christianity, including the 
object, medium, and end of faith, — the grand evangehcal 
promise fulfilled to them that believe, bestowing righteous- 
ness, or justification, without foregoing works as a condition ; 
and accompanying this free gift to the heart with a vital im- 
inission of grace, or rather, making the very revelation of it 
a substantial conveyance of the entire benefit designed. 
Justification is His gracious constitution and acceptance of 
us as righteous, solely for the sake of His Son, and through 
faith in His blood : it is therefore initiative to, and charac- 
teristic of, a truly evangelical state ; it is precedent to, and 
causal of, sanctification, the seed of which is contained in 
the new and heavenly birth. 

In these acts of God the very essence of Christianity is 
found ; this is the new creation, the restoration of the ori- 
ginal state and spiritual powers of man — the one source of 
his happiness and glory. It imphes an immediate in- 
tercourse with God, a union with His Son, and an indwell- 
ing of the Holy Ghost. It is a holy nature, fitted for sub- 
jection to a spiritual and perfect law : the moral rudiment 
of a heavenly state, and the grand palingenesia which in- 
cludes the resurrection of the body itself. But Christianity 
extends to visible organization, and to exterior effects. 
Spiritual though it be in its essence, '' it is not unclothed, 
but clothed upon." It is a living and centre principle, 
gathering to itself a body, an exquisitely perfect assemblage 
of members, and instrumental powers* Though intensely 
individualizing in its operation, it is not isolating ; it ordains 
new relations among men, and sublimates the social nature 
which it sanctifies, to a correspondence with its own ends. 
It imposes a new law upon them whom it has cemented into 
a spiritual brotherhood, and ranks with the most heinous 
and punishable offences those violations of it which would 
rend the bonds of this unity, and dismember the Lord's 
own body. 

The oneness of all true Christians is reiterated by the 



38 THE WORK OF GOD. 

"New Testament; and this oneness is affirmed to be the 
work of the Holy Ghost. Hence the command to keep 
'Hhe unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." This de- 
scription separates the evangelical unity from a mere politi- 
cal conventionalism, a secular despotism, or any artificial 
form of combination. *'The unity of the Spirit'' is more 
than the platform of the church — the inspired ordinance for 
its creation, or its government ; in other words, it is some- 
thing distinct from, and prior to, its organization and em- 
bodiment ; it is the very nature, soul, and being of it ; and 
springs out of the mystery of an implanted spiritual life, as 
do all the forms of social life from the nature of humanity 
itself. It is the kingdom of God, in its proper economical 
and moral development; it is nothing brought and added 
to it, but its own expanded self. It is a fountain overflow- 
ing from many little hidden springs, whose individuality is 
lost in the body of its waters, but whose beneficent copious- 
ness flows in the long, winding, fertihzing river. "The 
unity of the Spirit" is the gift of a universal soul to the 
Church, with its proper organization for functions and efi'ects. 
Its essential unity is the parent of the order intended to 
maintain it, and to produce its full moral impression on the 
world. Order again implies law, and its administration, by 
which only man, in every corporate capacity, can be made 
mutually helpful ; yet, it is not a system of feudalism, but 
of familyism. Its rulers are brethren, not lords — servants, 
not masters. Like angels, they have their orders of ministry, 
their divine liturgy, but with no priesthood or royalty — 
while their succession is not after a written genealogy, but 
the voice of the Spirit, as *' the wind blowing where it listeth," 
and leaving only to man the office of verifying His election, 
and countersigning His title. "The unity of the Spirit," 
then, considered as the soul and pattern of the church, is 
consistent with varieties of administration, and differences of 
theological opinion. It is not broken by such shades of sen- 
timent, and external mould, as do not imply a denial of, or 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS UNITY. $♦ 

apostasy from, the Head, the grand term of life — or the lack 
of the moral glory the Church is to hold up before the world. 

Distinct, and somewhat differing communities of profess- 
ing men, are not incongruous to the idea of a true cathohc 
unity, though perfection is unquestionably approached in 
proportion as these lines of demarcation become fainter, or 
are lost in the broad undenominated lines drawn in Scripture, 
composing the " unity of the Spirit," rather than that of a 
sect on the one hand, and of constrained, or legal uniformity 
on the other. 

The traces of man's handiwork are, perhaps, nowhere 
shown so clearly, or so mischievously, as in his ideal tran- 
scripts, or practical embodiments of the Church as the work 
of God : the full truth and spirit of which were never caught 
by theorists, or ecclesiastical statesmen, any more than na- 
ture's life, spirit, and power, are transferable to the marble 
or the canvass. 

The spirit and hfe of Christianity must be present, or the 
genuine material of a church, according to the New Testa- 
ment history and doctrine, is wanting. In its absence, the 
best compacted forms are only negative things — luxurious 
perhaps to sense, but inanities to faith — mere shadows, not 
the moulds of a teeming life — ^tasteful, but fraudulently ar- 
tificial, they beguile and destroy the unwary. They en- 
gross, but cannot convert ; they may enchant their votaries 
by sympathy with the gorgeous and the imaginative in their 
symbols and scenic exhibitions, or they may petrify by the 
drippings of a cold, rationahstic, and merely moral teaching, 
but leave them destitute of the birthright and blessing of a 
true evangelism. Moreover, forms, apart from their repre- 
sented principle, are fixed and immutable things. They do 
not adjust themselves instinctively to the varieties of reH- 
gious feeling, as certain instruments employed to signify the 
changes of atmospheric temperature. They resemble the 
edifices which admit successive generations of worshippers, 
without cognizance of either the lining or the dead, — or the 



4.0: THE WORK OF GOD. 

bay whicli never counts the tides tliat have washed its shores, 
or the sails that have whitened its waves. Mutabihty is an 
attribute of life, plastic in its own forms, and with its own 
sympathetic signs, just as the characters of the seasons 
which round the year, or the various phases of animal na- 
tures, (particularly the human.) Growth and maturity, 
health and disease, are phenomena of life, not of death. 
Death, as being a negative, is unchangeable ; the positive 
of existence only can run through the scale of degrees. 
Life's functions and habits are innumerable, but artistic 
copies of it have a stationary oneness. Dagon, though a 
god, if unreal, must be set in his place ; and Bel and Nebo 
must be transported on beasts, because they cannot go. 
So of the artificial in religion, — territorial occupancy, and 
customal sanction, are all it requires. It needs no revival, 
because it has no life. Whether true or false. Pagan, Mo- 
hammedan, or Christian, so far as each is a traditional, local, 
and social inheritance, not resting on reason, or adopted from 
considerate choice, it is simply a national symbol, an element 
of cohesion, or a component of social perfection : not that it 
is insinuated that the essential difference is less on that ac- 
count, but only, that in the simple point of prescriptional 
influence, they are the same. 

The different religions of mankind are geographically de- 
fined ; and their appropriate symbols in edifices, institutes, 
and customs, strike the visitor and the tourist, as scarcely 
more surprising than their distinctions of physiognomy, or 
of political and social life, all consisting in one great hu- 
manized mass. But they are either indigenous unfoldings 
of the mind, or have been ingrafted upon it by the sword 
of the conqueror. These disparate, and in general monstrous 
types of falsehood and crime, undergo no relative or indi- 
vidual changes from age to age ; their geographical propor- 
tions are almost as fixed as the territories under their pre- 
sidency, or the nationalities of the people who give them an 
undying personification. They express the mind of the 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS LIFE. 41 

world after it has been agitated through untold centuries, 
and by every conceivable kind of power derivable from itself, 
A multiform, but in its leading features immutable, despotism 
of evil, has been seated in the world, which requires no re- 
viviscence ; it is a *' body of death,'' comprising the whole 
race : false systems of religion are as necessarily included in 
it as currents are in the body of the ocean's waters. The 
true religion may be untruthfully held — treated as an error, 
or rather worse, — ^for in the world this preposterous action 
is incessant, of converting the truth into a lie, and a lie into 
the truth. 

Revival is only appropriate to the true religion. It ap- 
pertains to its life as opposed to systematized death, or to 
formalism of every kind. It recognises one religion only as 
the work of God, and God's agency and counsel as neces- 
sary to its vigour and extension. Thus it suggests discrimi- 
nating views on this great subject ; it shuts out from the 
domain of revival all merely territorial extensions of Chris- 
tianity, irrespective of their Scriptural character and heavenly 
spirituality. These are separated from the principle of re- 
vival by then- worldly and ambitious aims — the darnel na- 
tiu-e of the seed sown, — the temper in which false principles 
are propagated, — the despotic, persecuting power which, if 
successful, they establish, — and the anti-christian effects of 
their reign upon society at large. 

Revival is not then identical with the re-invigoration and 
spread of a system which embodies great doctrinal errors, 
despotic tendencies, or the propagation of mere formahsm. 
It is the revival of God's work, Scripturally defined, and 
operated now, as in the earliest times, without abridgment 
of privilege, or mutilation of character, — what all men of 
Scriptural faith, regenerate mind, and holy hves, agree to 
call RELIGION ; including what is fundamental and essential 
to them all, not the Shibboleth of any party. This, as being 
a di\ane thing, is, as man himself originally was, immediately 
from God. It is termed the new man, and is a production 



42 THE WORK OF GOD. 

equivalent to a creation. This attracts the sympathy of all 
good men ; it is truly a living thing, or no concern for its 
being needed to have been expressed. It is liable to de- 
cline, and in its more pubhc form, at least, to die, — or God 
would not have been supplicated to keep it alive. It is a 
prayer, catholic indeed, — not that it prompts men to over- 
look particular churches, or designations of Christianity, 
merging all special regards in a universality of interest, — 
but as it teaches them to view all individual churches, or 
local affinities, in harmony with the greater interest, which 
is Christ's more than it is ours ; and to value no one body 
of professing men, but as they combine to promote religion 
simply as such ; and to act, as well as feel, on tbe principle 
of universality, just as the eye, the hand, or the foot, to serve 
the comfort and security of the entire body. 

The first duty in respect to these topics, is to ascertain 
the reality of religious being in any country, or age contem- 
porary. To take broad as well as exact examination, the 
properties of those instruments which bring a plant or an 
insect before the eye, should be exemplified by the mind 
that would investigate the facts of religion, and form con- 
clusions as to its condition in the world. From want of this 
qualification, or sufficient opportunity for its exercise, serious 
errors may be adopted by parties holding extreme opinions 
on the subject. Varying dispositions, as well as pm-suits, 
will tinge with their own hues, the same moral scenery, and 
plant joy or dejection in the faces of those who simultane- 
ously survey it. The one may be ravished with Pisgah 
visions ; the other, distressed with the features of the desert, 
or the giant figures of the Anakim : the one, enchanted as 
Balaam seeing Israel in his tents, or fording Jordan in tri- 
umph ; the other desponding as he sees him retreating into 
the heart of the wilderness, or even making towards Egypt 
again. Doubtless there has been much to coimtenance both 
these extremes of feehng on the state of religion in our own and 
other countries, since the glorious days of the Reformation. 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS LATER HISTORY. 43 

Perhaps in no country, or era of the world, has the course 
of the Church been so critically eventful, as in England du- 
ling the last two centuries. A minute and lengthened his- 
toric analysis would be requisite to educe this profoundly 
stirring subject from its obscurity, and to place it in so 
strong a Ught as to produce all the desired conviction. Yet 
may it not be dismissed without observing, that the history 
of these times cannot be read aright if looked at as a merely 
pohtical record ; or their ecclesiastical afikirs but as part 
and parcel of our economic institutions. The light to be 
thrown upon this great roll is the sun of evangelical truth. 
This only reveals the otherwise inscrutable track of the di- 
vine footsteps in the fortunes of our country, whose perils 
and deliverances have been invariably identified with the 
cause of its faith. By this, as heaven's own beaconary pole- 
star, has the noble bark held its adventurous course over 
the treacherous waves in perfect safety, or been greeted by 
it as the star of mom, ushering in the glorious day to its 
full. Its break oflf from the thi'aldom of the Romish see (an 
event which, whatever judgment may be passed on some of 
the agencies called forth to efiect it, or on some of the con- 
tingencies associated with it) was more to England than its 
industry could ever earn, or its gold could ever buy — a re- 
demption of its freedom — an influx of wealth unsearchable. 
It was the holy ark returning from capti\aty, before which 
the palladium of superstition fell prostrate, as did the walls 
of Jericho. Judgment was executed upon the idols, and 
the darkness of death's shadow vanished from the face of 
its Shekinah. It brought with it something even more 
valuable than reform ; the seeds of religion were scattered 
widely through the land, which silently and vigorously grew, 
moistened by the dew which fell after the tempest was 
hushed, or by the gentle river gladdening the city of God, 
'' though the earth be removed, and the mountains earned 
into the midst of the sea.'' A spirit was evoked by these 
furiously contending elements which rehgion seized and 



44 THE WORK OF GOD. 

moulded to her own gentleness, yet combined with in- 
domitable corn-age and high-bom freedom. It flew as a 
seraph through the land, to purge its temples ; but more, 
to light up its altars — to breath forth incense, and to inspire 
with song — ^to war stoutly, but unbloodily, with every high 
thing exalting itself against the knowledge of God — to sanc- 
tify the land, as did Josiah, by burning the very bones and 
relics of defunct idolatry ; or, as Moses, to scatter the dust 
of the calf upon the waters, after the abomination itself had 
been dissolved by the flame. Though repelled and perse- 
cuted, it endured — it was never quelled : '' Cast down, but 
not destroyed." Chased from sanctuaries, immured in pri- 
sons, proscribed as treason, or abhorred as an exorcised de- 
mon, — without honour, home, or rights — an exile in its 
fatherland, and an alien among its brethren ; yet to crush 
it was impossible. It gathered \dgour from compression, 
and might from suffering. Like Israel, under Pharaoh's ban 
and murderous policy, its children multiplied, until they 
"filled the land,'' and bequeathed to posterity monuments 
of then- existence and labours as durable as pyramids, and 
more ennobling to their country than all the achievements 
of its sons of prouder fame. In them was impersonated, 
and kept alive, the true spirit of the first grand Reformers. 
They were their descendants by a manifest moral affiliation. 
They arose after them to finish an imperfect work, and to 
embody fully their archetype. Unlike their great prede- 
cessors, whose task was to smite the rock, and to open the 
fountains for a thirsty, dying host, theirs was rather to work 
out channels for its diffusive flow, and to give it free currency 
throughout the land : and if in their primary design they 
failed, their work was not in vain ; if they did not modify 
the great ecclesiastic institution of their country, they pro- 
bably did higher service to religion, by the action and re- 
action of their principles both on Church and State. They 
maintained and amplified national rights, against tyranny of 
every kind ; and so thoroughly embedded the roots of civil 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS LATER HISTORY. 45 

and religious liberty in the heart of the land, as to show its 
palmy grandeur more and more, with every succeeding epoch 
of its existence, till, like the vine brought out of Egypt, *' it 
sent forth its boughs to the river, and its branches to the 
end of the earth." Under its vast shadow all now repose, 
and of its fruits all freely partake. Without this tutelage 
the throne itself were insecure, and the people were not free. 

Religion has not only provided a refuge for herself, but 
a shield for the nation. She has laid underneath it the 
*' everlasting arms," and uiterwoven its glory and its destinies 
with her own existence and prosperity. With equal truth, and 
deeper reverence of feeling, may we regard, as ISTaboth, the 
inheritance of our fathers ; and, hke him, refuse to yield it 
to the encroachments of prerogative, or the biddings of 
statesmen. Auction is infamy; — surrender, ruin. Within 
this hard eanied fence, this state enclosure, has God, for 
ages past, kept ahve His work, and caused it to revive and 
flourish again, when it seemed to sicken unto death. 

Rehgion, if it finds not freedom, creates it. It spurns 
slavery in every form as uncongenial with itself. How truth- 
ful to fact, how transcendent in beauty, is the prophetic 
picture of it held up by our Saviour in the synagogue of 
Nazareth ! — " He hath sent me to proclaim hberty," &c. — 
Such was its Jubilee in Palestine, and such is its Jubilee in 
all nations. Every inferior blessing is attendant upon its 
liberating march, and springs up into fulness as the redun- 
dancy of its grand primary gift. The nations least pohtically 
free, are least in harmony with Christianity ; their social 
forms and institutes are exponent only of restraint, and its 
parent fear wielding power for its own defence. This is the 
constituency of despotism. Man is degraded by being made 
the mere tool of arbitrary will ; his nature is shrivelled, and 
his capacity for religion impaired, by this low, crimping ac- 
tion. Christianity, whenever admitted, — if it be indeed it- 
self, — must either destroy these incongi-uities, or be destroyed 
by them : it must either proclaim and create its Jubilee, or 



46 THE WORK OF UOD. 

be transformed into an instrument of despotism, and issue, 
more or less, according to circumstances, in tlie features of 
Popery. Such is the history and the philosophy of its cor- 
ruptions. Its servitude is but an apprenticeship to tjraimj, 
and in accordance with the immutable laws of villanage, it 
retahates with unmeasured severity its wrongs, when in turn 
it has ascended the seat of power. Like the air, let it be 
free, and it is vital and healthgiving ; confine it, and it ter- 
rifically explodes, or becomes the vehicle of the pestilence. 

The existence, propagation, and ascendency of religion in 
the world, require especial succours, imremitting oversight, 
and exercises of Redeeming power. Man, as the subject 
and the instrument of this work, though necessarily intrusted 
■with its accomplishment, is too corrupt, feeble, and unfaith- 
ful a being, to do for it all that its importance requires ; or 
even his graciously assisted powers, if tasked as they might, 
and ought to be, would enable him. The mystery of his 
moral nature, in connexion with the divine, is as great as 
that of his physical system, wliich, though organically and 
vitally perfect, rests upon a Power greater than itself, for 
*' life, and breath, and all things." Nevertheless, the result 
of this combination is not necessity, but the indispensable 
condition of a true moral freedom. Man is not reduced by 
it to a merely passive instrument of the Supreme will, but 
exalted to the position of a mighty and responsible agent-— 
the recipient of God's grace and the organ of His power — 
while the measure of his gifts, and the degrees of his in- 
fluence on the mind, are the behests of a profoundly wise 
Sovereignty. Vast inequahty undoubtedly marks His dis- 
pensations, whether to persons or communities ; yet perfectly 
consistent with justice, which reaps only where it has sown, 
and gathers only where it has strewed. 

Between the highest and most constraining visitations 
consistent with an intact moral agency, and the lowest 
point to which they may range, either as an original 
gratuity, or from judicial dereliction on accoimt of sin. 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS PRESERVATION. i1 

there is doubtless a wide interval ; yet over tliis one moral 
territory, a holy, but merciful sceptre is absolute; and 
tliougb a revealed system of means be its appropriate coun- 
terpart, and man be advanced in the sphere of his agency to 
the sublime condition of a worker " together with God," his 
insufficiency to operate alone, is the chief lesson inculcated 
by Revelation; and which providential analogies confirm, 
though thoroughly antagonist to the most cherished pro- 
pensities of his heart. " Neither is he that planteth any- 
thing, nor he that watereth, but God that giveth the in- 
crease." He alone that ordains means, can effectually em- 
ploy them. He must wield his own instruments, or they 
fail, because disjoined from his own agency. Man may ar- 
range and employ his own talents, or those of others, but 
his bounds are fixed — " he cannot pass over." God's pro- 
vince of action cannot be invaded, nor results secured by 
creature counsel and industry which would deprive Him of 
His glory. The care for, and maintenance of His own work, 
— peculiarly His, — ^is His concern emphatically; and His 
agency is as much declared by its preservation and spread, 
as it is in the works that surround us. Nor is man's pro- 
vince of agency so much a positive as a negative one. It is 
not so much to call into action the divine power, as to re- 
move obstacles to its manifestation — to bring himself or his 
fellows under the necessary conditions for the realization of 
its causal efficacy. Thus was the preparatory mission of 
the great Forerunner set forth under the image of mountains 
removed, and valleys exalted, in order that the glory of the 
Lord might be revealed, and all flesh see it together ; and 
this holds equally true of the state of a single human heart, 
or the collective opposition of a world ; the conditions equally 
demand His agency with the work itself; nor beyond the 
appliances which man puts forth upon his fellow, is there 
more than one reserve of strength which he holds by special 
privilege— one by which he constrains Omnipotence to his 
aid. Prayer contains the practical philosophy of the Bible 



48 THE WORK OF GOD. 

— the key of heaven — the charter of benediction, — and the 
league of man with God. 

Christianity is to be regarded as the grand development 
of the doctrine of Power. Prophetically, was the Christ 
announced as the ''Arm of the Lord," and evangelfcally 
demonstrated as such, by the opened mystery of his person 
and work. In the whole history of his earthly manifesta- 
tion, the one idea of power is prevalently displayed, but 
chiefly in the Atonement he offered for our sins, and his 
consequent bestowment of the gift of the Holy Spirit. 
These acts, however diverse in character, and implying op- 
posite conditions of the same being, were economically and 
morally one. They were demonstrations of Omnipotency, 
as being the very principle and substance of our redemption. 
Its whole causation lay in these acts of Christ alone. Here 
was *' the power of God unto salvation," which the gospel 
published,— that '' power from on high" which alone gives 
the general boon a distmct personal appropriation, maintain- 
ing a counter reign to that of evil in individual minds, and 
investing with the church collectively, as its prepared recep- 
tacle, the agency of universal regeneration. It is not in the 
Jcindy but the degree, of the power wielded, that Christianity 
excels every antecedent economy of grace. As it is perfect 
truth, so is it perfect power. The glories of Pentecost are 
the heritage of all ages, and " the day of salvation" contains 
every insti-umental and effectuating agency, necessary to the 
full accomplishment of the designs of Almighty love. In 
this sense, as well as in the order of events, it is '' the last 
time," comprismg the past and the future in its plenary, 
glorious NOW. As the keystone, which bmds either seg- 
ment of the arch together in beauty and strength, so does 
it perfect the span which redeeming wisdom has ordained 
for Adam's whole race. It is " the dispensation of the ful- 
ness of times" — the sun in its meridian height — the ocean 
in its unfathomable depth, and shoreless amplitude. It is 
God's own zeal burning in the breasts of his servants, as the 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS DISPENSATION FULNESS. 40^ 

altar's coals laid upon the Prophet's lips. It is Christ's 
chariot let down from the firmament of the third heaven, 
all refulgent with his sacrificial glory, with wheels, eyes, and 
living ones — all the creatures of His love, and the ministers 
of His Spirit, whose instrument the truth itself is — the law 
of his most wonderful operations — at once the harbinger, 
the ideal, and the pledge of the world's restoration. 

In the very theory of Christianity, as well as in its history, 
the whole work of God is the creature of his Spirit, to which 
the earthly and personal work of Christ was evidently sub- 
servient. His was the grand intermedial action between the 
purpose of the Father, and the consummation of the Holy 
Ghost, connecting the hypostatic distinctions of the Three- 
One, with a corresponding order of developed counsel. Con- 
formably with this rationale, the remote causes of our re- 
demption are hidden in the abyss of a Paternal and Fihal 
correlation, and they become manifest in operation by the 
ofiice of the Holy Ghost. Thus the relations of each Person 
to the world are fully declared, and a coiTCsponding fulness 
of blessing is the result. 

The gift of the Spirit is a dispensational perfection, not 
a temporary, or merely sovereign adjunct to it. It is as 
truly a fact in the history of our redemption, and the celes- 
tial polity founded on it, as is the finished work of Christ 
on earth. He is as fully given and sent forth by Christ 
from the Father, as He ever will be while the world lasts. 
He cannot have objects to accomplish ulterior to the king- 
dom of the Son, nor doctrines to teach, nor agencies to create, 
not included in the existing system of divine truth. This 
bounds his whole office. It is simply administrative of a 
polity actually in bemg, and definitely made known, not of 
an unrevealed supplemental something, extending through 
a future epoch. Existing Christianity is the last and highest 
dispensation of restoring grace ; it is not like the law, " the 
shadow of good things to come," an eye descrying the glories 
of the future — a voice demanding preparation for sometliing 

3 



50 THE WORK OF GOD. 

yet to come — a> teacher to whom its lessons are but initiative, 
the mere rudiment of a more sublime philosophy. It re- 
gards ETERNITY as its immediate, subsequent, and loftier dis- 
pensational status, claiming all intermediate scenes and evo- 
lutions as portions of itself, and the final glories of restitu- 
tion, as but the fulfilment of its own promises. 

Again, the importance of it as estimated by the Divine 
Mind, marks its corresponding interest to His people. God's 
regards towards it, are properly the standard of theirs : their 
judgment, sympathies, and exertions on its behalf are but 
the reciprocations of His infinite intelligence and love. To 
the world at large, this work bears a lasting aspect of su- 
preme beneficence, and manifold wisdom. It is God's mind 
turned toward it in unchangeable grace. His eternal pur- 
pose, comprehensive of every deed of creation, and pro\a- 
dential government, perpetually unfolding itself, yet by 
methods which none can confidently anticipate, and none 
fully comprehend. The contingencies to which it is subject, 
the reverses which chequer its history, its feebleness, and 
seemingly decaying condition in particular ages and nations, 
its very partial spread through so long a period of time, and 
the prospects which even now open into the immediate future, 
are all lessons to faith, — not satisfactions to reason. Its 
past career has not, as might have been anticipated, been 
one of triumphant amehoration, and of accumulating in- 
fluence, each succeeding age inheriting a greater blessing 
than its forerunner, and bequeathing its own augmented 
treasures of truth and goodness to the generation folloAving 
it, till the whole earth should have become more than " of 
one speech and language," as before its Babel days, even of 
ONE RELIGION — the boud of its brotherhood, and of univer- 
sal concord, — the divine guardian of all human rights and 
interests : Wisdom, — ^holding all precious gifts in her hands, 
— herself more precious than they all, — angel of earth, and 
tree of life in heaven. That its supremacy is the universal 
Good, Providence and Revelation conciu*rently testify. 



THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH ITS PRINCIPLES. 51 

The whole case of the world, past and present, may be 
viewed as one vast experimental exhibition of the impotency 
of man to realize his own ideal of human perfectibility, — 
to do more than to extend his capacity, without increasing 
his virtue, and to embelHsh his nature, without satisfying its 
cravings after happiness, — in a word, to work out, by his 
own appliances, however continuous, the noble end of his 
being's full weal ; and, also, the utter desperateness and folly 
of his efforts in canying on the project, while pertinaciously 
overlooking, and even scorning, the proffered help of God 
himself. The failure and the curse have spoken in vain to 
besotted worldly wisdom, in all ages. It is not of a millen- 
niary of science, a paradise of civilization, that the Sph'it of 
God has so long testified. Its visions are not of the crea- 
tions of human wisdom, of man s^Z/"- elevated and self-hlessed, 
— of his world without a woe, or his eye without a tear. 
It is no COSMOPOLITAN glory which dazzles us as we look 
upon the last pages of truth, — a sacred city is beheld, not 
raised out of the earth, but descended from heaven; not 
bright, with the full sun's strength, of all science, arts, and 
pohtic perfections commingled, but with the gloiy of God, 
and the light of the Lamb. It is the city of God, not of 
the World : He is its builder and maker, not Man. It is 
the grand image of manhood celestialized ; of earth and 
heaven blended together ; of intellect irradiated by its parent 
sun ; and of hfe la\ing in its own Eternal Fountain. 

The existing reHgion of our day is precious, not only to 
the H^dng mass, but to the coming generation. It is our 
light to bless their waking hfe — the doctrine which em- 
balms the dead, with immortality, adding life to hfe, and 
blessing to blessing. To our posterity, it is as Jacob's ex- 
cellency over Esau's portion. It is more than earthly 
fame, or than mines of wealth. It imparts to families, in 
their successive being, the indissoluble unity of the Church 
itself, — gathering them together "in one." Heaven is 
aggrandized by the succession of a samted ancestry, and 



52 EVANGELISM. 

earth blessed by scions of beauty and fruitfulness, shown 
and lent to it, till their virtues are fully ripened, and the 
predestined hour of recompense shall have come. 



CHAPTER III. 

EVANGELISM. 

To nations, religion is the only lasting basis of unity and 
repose, combining perfect order vi^ith the highest freedom— 
the pillars of the state with the throne of God. It indi- 
vidualizes good, by making every one more capable of 
receiving and transmitting it. The application of its prin- 
ciples to social improvement is indefinite, and insures a 
perpetually augmenting divine blessing. Thus there is, in 
the body politic as well as in the X^hurch, an " effectual 
working in the measure of every part." A system coming 
from God must be a copy of His own character, and an 
instrument of His benignity, conveying the greatest pos- 
sible amount of good ; w^hile it rescues us from the perils 
of expediency, and the mischievous sophistry, which sepa- 
rates utility from virtue, and happiness from religion. But 
a most impressive light in which to view it is, the lofty 
PROBATION to which it subjects nations possessing it, and 
the good and evil which it judicially makes to alternate in 
them. 

The legislative, judicial, and state action of such nations 
is to be measured by its recorded principles. All nega- 
tive, but especially all express, contraventions of its sta- 
tutes, are offences against those "eyes of fire" which, with 
searching jealousy, pervade the soul of nations, as of indivi- 
duals — condemning "spiritual wickedness in high places." 
The "judgment " so frequently adverted to in prophetic Scrip- 
ture as exercised by God over nations, is nothing else than 
a perfectly administered Christianity. It is the full sove- 



ITS NATIONAL ASPECTS. 53 

reignty of Clirist, set up by means of his Church and the 
power of his Spirit, so moulding the heart of nations, and 
controlling their sentiments and acts, on all questions of 
public obligation and interest, as to make all their corporate 
and political ordinances expressions of His ascendency, and 
of pubhc homage offered to His throne. If these characters 
of legislation and political action be not impressed upon a 
nation holding the Christian faith, — such fact is, indeed, in 
proof of its unsubstantiation in the public mind — but can- 
not be pleaded against the doctrine of obligation, involved 
in the very presence of the divine rule which it has accepted 
and confessed in the worship set up within its territory — 
by the religious sanction which it casts about the title and 
investiture of the Supreme Magistrate, and interwoven with 
the constitution, and functionary departments, of the state. 
''Whose is this image and superscription?'' asked our 
I-iord, when pressed to decide the litigated question of the 
tribute payment. The rejoinder to the reply, " Csesar's," is 
comprehensive of more questions than of that immediately 
settled by it, '' render therefore unto Caesar." 

Religious recognitions are the basis of religious obliga- 
tions ; but these, however just, cannot be practically main- 
tained by an artificial system of public ordinances, as dis- 
tinguished from a substantial embodiment of the national 
mind — the actual religious life which breathes and moves 
within the frame of the polity. Such a system becomes a 
mere corpse, subject to the invariable laws of corruption ; or 
it resembles an olden efiigy, corroded by time, or mutilated 
by violence. Public sympathy with it being lost, its image 
is seen in the forms of clouds which hasten to depart, or 
the party-coloured bow, which, however beautiful and per- 
fect, is soon resolved into nothing by the elements that 
gave it bhth. The Work of God in a nation is the true 
measm-e and safeguard of pubhc religion. It is, according 
to our Lord's expressive parable, the only power that can 
leaven the mass, and truly create a Christian nation. Its 



54 EVANGELISM. 

progress is from individuals to families, and from families 
to communities and nations. Its features and sympathies 
are essentially popular, — it marches on to empire by indi- 
vidual conquest, — and its last and greatest triumph is Jo 
plant its banner on the throne, and to display the insignia 
of its sovereignty in the assembly of " the gods.'' 

The amount of living Evangehsm, embodied in the mind 
of England, and variously distributed in its existing forms 
of Christian profession, is a solemn trust, committed to the 
nation, proportioned to the grace of its bestowment, and the 
excellencies of its blessings. To a large extent, it has re- 
deemed it from the pernicious extremes of infidelity and 
superstition ; whose joint usurpations, or separate ascend- 
ency, would, in its absence, have probably been perfected, 
and have ripened the vintage, to be trodden in " the wine- 
press of the fierce wrath of God Almighty ;" or else, have 
consigned us to the sceptre of an arctic foimalism, to ter- 
minate only in the ruinous alterative of a social disruption. 

The rapid increase of population and wealth, which of 
late years have set in upon the empire ; the almost preter- 
natural activity of its mind ; its wide commingling with the 
mind of central Europe ; the long and broad peace which 
has cast the most polished and potent nations of modem 
times into each other's arms, as those of a long-forgotten 
brotherhood, — have given an expansion, wide and mutual, 
to collective mind. It has created new elements of social 
power, both of good and evil. It has bestowed the leisure 
requisite for searching introspection, and more general, as 
well as critical comparison. The sympathies of nature 
have, by compact, gradually warmed, and become more in- 
tense, producing mutual assimilation. In addition to the 
native currents and eddies, created by the Sowings of a 
strong and prosperous empire, it has brought in the tidal 
waters of surrounding countries ; thus introducing a strong 
double action upon our social state. Manners, morals, 
literature, philosophy, religion, have all been silently, but 



DECAYED PROTESTANTISM. 55 

powerfully, influenced by these home and foreign causes. 
Great changes have taken place in every department of our 
national being, and seem to augur and prepare for others : 
and these again may involve the ultimate re-casting of all 
our institutions, whether political or religious. 

It is a token of good for the future, though porten- 
tous and unknown, as it has been a fehcity in the past, 
that hitherto the work of God has been revived and ex- 
tended in our land. Its distinct and \dtal da^vn may be 
dated at little more than a century back, when the breath 
and pulse of a once giant race had well-nigh ceased in the 
frames of their dwindled posterity, — and w^hen, over the 
statues of genius, the triumphal arches of warriors, the 
palaces of princes, the seats of learning, and the brow of a 
whole nation, renowned for its martial, political, and com- 
mercial eminency, there gathered " darkness and the shadow 
of death," which deepened v*dth advancing hours, till torpor 
invaded its every limb, and the whole body became well 
nigh defunct. 

The nation's Protestantism was shrivelled almost to im- 
palpability. She had retreated to unhomely fanes and 
cloisters, as if to die there ; or appeared only as a state 
symbol — a minion of courts — or a wreath to garnish royal 
heads on hohdays. She could not challenge personal 
homage by her heavenly majesty, as formerly, but rested 
on prescription, the poor hollow bottom of every idol in the 
world. She pointed not to her h\ing family with dehght, 
but to the time-worn tombstones of her fii'st-born: or 
pored over the historic page — that book of noblest heraldiy 
which registered their deeds immortal. Though gorgeously 
apparelled, and richly endowed, gray hairs and decrepitude 
were accelerated, not prevented, by her courtly pampering. 
Her tongue, once powerful as the flame which lighted on 
the heads of the apostolic college to melt the spirit of a 
nation, could only whisper creeds and confessions to scanty, 
heedless congregations. Her eye, once bright and vital as 



56 EVANGELISM. 

the morning, was purblind and soulless, as enstranged from 
gospel vision, and long-fixed diversion from tlie cross. 
Her countenance had lost its beauty and inspiration — its 
true talismanic power over painted, meretricious Error, with 
her mystery-labelled forehead, and cup of sorceries. 

Protestantism yielded not to fierce assault, or expired, as 
in her last retreat, pierced by the phalanxes of confederate 
foes ; the causes of her threatened downfall lay within her 
own bosom : — unfaithfulness to truth, worldly repletion, 
engendering a false sense of security, indifference to duty, 
disregard of responsibility, and practical infidelity : in 
these evils she had laid a snare for her own feet, and 
gathered the magazine for a speedy ruin. Had this season 
of deep and ominous declension been accompanied with the 
various and intense antagonisms of a later century, the 
issue does not seem doubtful ; but the winds, as in the 
Apocalyptic vision, were holden during that season, 
which, had they swept over tracts of fading life and au- 
tumnal foliage, would have carried every vestige of them 
away. They were reserved till another spring had renewed 
its youth, and opposed to them a new creation of vital 
vigour, which, however labouring beneath their blast, 
waved and bowed itself without being broken, and smiled 
triumphantly in the returning sunbeam, when the tempest 
had sunk to rest. 

There is a doctrine, as glorious to faith as true to fact, in 
the prophetic saying, **When the enemy cometh in as a 
flood, the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a standard against 
him." It speaks to the Church two great lessons : — ^the 
season when divine interposition may be expected, and in 
what the interposition itself consists. It would seem as if, 
on God's part. His resources were in abeyance, till the 
turning point between life and death was reached, or the 
triumph of the foe was sure ; and that it is in the revival of 
evangelical religion, as the work of God, that Church de- 
liverance is foimd. This is God's standard — this is God's 



PROGNOSTICS OF REVIVAL. 57 

sign. A second Scripture, found in the same prophet, is 
expressive of the same cheering truth : "A bruised reed 
shall he not break," &c. The Church, though prostrate as 
the reed lying on the earth, but not broken from its root, — 
or seeming so reduced in splendour and vital flame as the 
flax in the lamp-wick, when so exhausted that its light has 
become all but extinct, is nevertheless not suffered to go 
out — He lifts it up again, as the reed from the earth, 
with his fostering hand; he replenishes the lamp with a 
living power, and makes it more brilliant than before. He 
either revives the old Church, or he creates a new one to 
fill its place. If he remove one candlestick, he lights 
and lifts up others. The doctrine is, that God never suffers 
his cause in the earth to be wholly lost ; that some signs 
of life shall exist, somewhere and somehow ; and that such 
signs, though feeble and despicable, are sure prognostics of 
mighty showings of his power : " He will send forth judg- 
ment unto victory." 

Thus it happened in the introduction of Christianity 
itself into the world, and in every subsequent revival of it. 
True religion has, in every instance, been in a low and ex- 
piring condition. Unfaithfulness in its professed disciples 
and appointed guardians, has rendered its preservation 
and future ascendency an impossibility, but to God him- 
self. And such was the complexion of the case at the pe- 
riod referred to. Little more than a nominal Protestantism 
remained, wearing the equivocal aspects of our forefathers' 
folly, or their children's degeneracy ; but still inestimable, 
as not having removed the "old landmarks" of separation 
from Rome, and holding forth that grand beacon light, — the 
Word of God, together with the maintenance of pure forms 
of Christian worship, though too generally disjoined from 
the power of godliness. Such a state of things, however 
faulty, greatly favom-ed the outset of a spiritual movement, 
which, thoroughly severed from every pohtical creed, and 

tinge of partizanship, — from all boisterous declamation re- 

3^ 



58 EVANGELISM. 

specting ecclesiastical corruptions, — proposals for merely 
external reforms, or theoretic visions, — aimed simply at sup- 
plying the grand desideratum of the land, and of the age — 
the revival of the primitive spirit of religion. It came not in 
the startling form of an innovation — of " some new thing,'' 
to which " history could bear no testimony, and the country 
no traces, in its sacred biography, or theologic lore." Like 
Christianity itself, it was founded in some prior form of 
spiritual existence; its credentials were found in its irre- 
fragable appeals to the " faith of God's elect." It was no 
cometic phenomenon — an unrelated form of religious life — 
a bubble rising from the social flood — a unit in the fan- 
tastic family of enthusiasm : it was Protestantism, not so 
much in its negative as in its positive character, — not so 
much in what it excludes, as m what it contains within its 
narrowed ring, namely, the whole mystery of the faith ; as 
the pillars and sockets of the ancient tabernacle enclosed 
its precious symbols within " the holiest of all." It had an 
ancestry, as well as a posterity ; a past, as well as a present 
being. It was the re-issuing of a lost spring; a hidden 
treasure exposed ; a patrimony recovered ; a ^vinter state of 
vegetation succeeded by a spring of bud, and bloom, and 
fragrance, and fruit. It was the barren one beginning to 
bear, whose cries carried terror through the land, and whose 
first-born, though sons of light, were "as wonders imto 
many." 

The purely spiritual character of this revival was its 
glory. It was an unmixed offspring of the Truth, and, in 
this respect, stood forth as more apostolic than the Reforma- 
tion itself. It partook largely of the simplicity, which, to 
man, seems like improvidency ; of that childhood, which is 
the test of heavenly greatness, and which, insensible to the 
charms of wealth, the prizes of ambition, and the politic 
calculations of selfishness, is absorbed by greater objects in 
the distance, and regards as vanities and shadows the inter- 
mediate visions, which enchant all earth-born souls. 



METHODISM. 59 

This work began, as do the most signal acts of God, 
without long forethought, powerful combination, and a 
preconcerted system of means, by its agents ; the child of 
to-day — the heir, not the slave, of to-morrow ; regarding 
duty, not consequences ; rising up to stem the torrent of a 
nation's vices ; to brave its enmity, and to endm-e its oppo- 
sition; entering almost single-handed into a contest, to 
which numbers, as well as gffts, might have seemed in- 
adequate, it joined battle in the name of God alone, won 
victories, and gathered spoils, from a field where every 
other arm than that of faith would have returned bootless. 
As a mere element of heavenly life, its first instincts and 
cares were not forms of embodiment, or modes of action. 
These came out of its native power of development. It 
rather, in accordance with the doctrine of the vision of dry 
bones, sought to re-animate matter, once living, than to 
organize for itself: rather to sacrifice its individuahty, than 
to limit its power; to be diffusive and unpartial as the 
atmosphere, than to be ch'cumscribed by enclosures, or to 
become the property of a sect. As springs, in process of 
time, form their own chaimels, and define their own 
courses, so has this glorious outburst of living piety found 
its proper line of communion with the world. After subsi- 
dizing other churches, and scattering its sacred treasures 
with unsparing hand — even as England's wealth and influ- 
ence redounding to its neighbour nations — it still remains, 
under its primitive name of Methodism, distinct in its 
economy, and independent in its position; time to its 
principles, and catholic in its spirit; a mighty reinforce- 
ment of the Protestant heart of the nation, and a general 
blessing to the world. Portionless and despised, as if born 
of fornication, — at least, endowed only with the gospel 
heritage of persecution ; and trained to labours more abun- 
dant, for wages gathered "to life eternal," — Methodism 
was the great event of the eighteenth century, and its pro- 
gress and results were the commencement of a fresh era, in 



60 EVANGELISM. 

the destinies of tlie Church, and the aspects of Christianity 
on the world. Equally designed to conserve and to extend 
the dominion of religion — to re -kindle the lamps that had 
gone out, and to carry the sacred fire around the world — 
its origin is splendidly attested by its principles and effects ; 
and if to say, as did the Pharisees of Christ, *' He casteth 
out devils through Beelzebub, the prince of devils," were a 
blasphemy against His Spirit ; a portion of the blindness 
and infatuation, as well as guilt, of such a sin, must adhere 
to those who, in all ages, blaspheme His work, when pre- 
sented in its New Testament summary, the " new creature, 
in Christ Jesus." 

To what end are state settlements, and Church canons 
pleaded, against the plain, li\dng testimony of the Spirit of 
God ? Or, if a sign from heaven were demanded, which, 
like an oath, should be an " end of all strife," what could 
it speak more than do the existing oracles of truth ? He 
who is "The Truth" having said, "by their fruits ye shall 
know them : do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
thistles ?" — before the light of this testimony all traditionary 
doctrines, and merely human opinions, flee as shadows. 
The endless genealogies, with the priestly despotism foun- 
ded on them, which has nothing but pedigree and prescrip- 
tion to plead on its behalf, are remitted to Rome. The ar- 
rogant Phariseeism, which through all ages, and under every 
ecclesiastical form, retains its full identity, is divinely rebuked, 
as Ishmael, who mocked Isaac— the child of the flesh, who 
persecutes him that is "born after the Spirit." Somewhat 
anomalous, and consequently difficult as the position of 
Methodism, viewed as an ecclesiastical system, is, it is the 
natural result of its purely spiritual origin, with the con- 
tingencies arising out of it. Its position is not that chosen 
for it by its founder. He contemplated no separate embo- 
diment of it, but a re-infusion of life into the national 
church, — the somewhat waning mother to be warmed and 
reinvigorated to youth by the breath of her own offspring. 



METHODISM. CI 

But, this boon refused, a second personification of noncon- 
foimity ensued : not indeed identical with the first, but ra- 
ther presenting points of contrast. Methodism was neither 
theoretically reforming in its spirit, nor divisive in the mate- 
rials which it embodied. Its agent was the gospel only; 
its subjects, the mass of sinful and lost men. No existing 
churches were enfeebled or despoiled by its operations. 
Its ambition was not to create a sect, but to save souls. 
The great gospel object was adopted as its own, and pur- 
sued with a zeal and consistency which, in spite of every 
weapon of enmity and device of calumny, was triumphantly 
vindicated in the strong and wide impulse given to the re- 
ligion of the age and coimtry. It reacted on the Estabhshed 
Church, not by awakening any sympathy toward itself, but, 
from a regard to its conservation and predominancy, in the 
recovery of its lost popular influence. That Church, Pro- 
metheus-hke, stole the fire it had vainly endeavoured to 
quench, and surreptitiously seized, as an element of power, 
what, as an ally, it had treated with scorn. 

As in apostolic times, so in our own, it has happened that 
Christ has been preached, *' of contention," yet not in vain. 
The influence of party motive, and the bigotry which an ab- 
sorbing regard to particular interests creates, do not destroy, 
though they impair and adulterate, the efficiency of a sub- 
stantial Evangelism. The increased breadth of instrumental 
application, and even competing religious agency, is a public 
gain ; even though deteriorated by the scantiness of its 
charity, and the predominancy of its human infirmity. 
Good follows this imperfect administration of Christianity, 
however blended with accidental evils, as compared with the 
baneful effects of false systems in the ascendant, or the dark, 
blank domination of a worldly, atheistic spirit. Methodism, 
as the latest embodiment of religious feeling in England, is 
remarkable for its biformity of countenance, partaking of a 
resemblance to the older and more parental forms of religion 
in the country — friendly to both, but not identical with either. 



62 EVANGELISM. 

Though not adopting the abstract principle of dissent, Me- 
thodism is practically one with it, by its non-recognition of 
any ecclesiastical superiority, and its equal claim, on simply 
spiritual grounds, to gather unlimitedly the unevangelized 
population of the country within its pale, and to spread its 
dominion as widely as possible, under the wing of a consti- 
tutional defence. It has done much toward consolidating 
religious freedom, by greatly increasing the amount of prac- 
tical nonconformity, — raising the voice of public opinion in 
its favour whenever encroachments have been apprehended 
from state interference, abetted by ecclesiastical bigotry and 
intrigue. It has greatly modified the action of the Estabhsh- 
ment on society in general ; while it has, by its principles 
and example, in common with other bodies, provoked it into 
an attitude of almost portentous activity : it has brought 
it down from its olden eminency of vituperation and annoy- 
ance, to the same level of moral adventure and popular com- 
petition with itself. If the spirit of the Establishment has 
but little improved under these apphances, its influence has 
prodigiously increased; showing, that whatever opinions 
may be held on the comparative merits of the endowment 
and voluntary principles as fiscal questions, a moral volun- 
taryism is the very soul of a church, and that its true in- 
terests are best secured by a well-sustained effort to do its 
duty, and fulfil its destiny. 

The present condition of religion demands the whole em- 
phasis of the prayer, "Revive Thy work." Generally, it 
may be assumed, that whatever admits of progression, and 
of perfection as the result of this law, is subject also to their 
opposite, decline. This observation is borne out by universal 
experience, and illustrated by the whole history of human 
society. Progression may be aflfirmed, indeed, of society as 
a whole, during its many centuries of evolution ; but with a 
concurrent oscillation, or pendulum motion, so disguising 
the fact, that the certainty of it can only be perceived by 
comprehensive observation, taken at remote intervals. 



ITS PRESENT CONDITION. 63 

Tlie social, and even intellectual law of advance, is liable 
to be disturbed by many invading occurrences, perhaps 
really necessary, or, at least to some extent, promotive of 
ultimate advance. ISTor is religion an exception to this course 
of human things ; as being an element cast into humanity 
itself, and, therefore, subject to all its characteristic changes 
and accidents. 

It may, indeed, be affirmed, that tendencies towards de- 
clension and corruption in religion, are more certain and 
powerful than those which intrude into simply human insti- 
tutions ; as it touches our common nature at more points 
than anything else, and is subject to more counter-influences 
from the moral condition of man, as well as the contingent 
circumstances of society. The causes necessary to its essen- 
tial purity, and aggressive vigour, though thoroughly su- 
perhuman, are yet so intimately combined with earthly agen- 
cies, and so liable to be attenuated by many, and almost 
imperceptible counteractions, often arising out of its suc- 
cesses, that they seem to be almost essentially intermittent. 
They are the strong inchnations of men, to a relaxed and 
easy measure of religious practice, and to glory in the deeds 
of a religious ancestry, without imitating them ; or to \4ew, 
with complacency, the breadth of a moral occupancy, with- 
out scrutinizing its qualities ; to affect the show of exter- 
nalism; to court the suffrage of the world; and to trust 
more in means and measures where man is most prominent, 
than in God's blessing on the more spiritual and difficult 
process of securing it. These are all predisposing principles, 
and characteristic symptoms of spiritual decline. They 
prove a diminution of the vital force which originated a 
movement, and which gave existence to the whole machinery 
of means. Abatement here, is incipient decay; the impul- 
sive power is weakened, and, from henceforth, extension itself 
is an aggravation of debility, not an accession of strength ; 
and the largest Christian communities, like the largest em- 
pires in their wane, fall, and are crushed by tlieir own weight. 



64 EVANGELISM. 

All religious revivals tend to expenditure, and cessation, by 
the very law of their spirituality, unless perpetually watched ; 
their widening ripples on the social deep become more feeble, 
till they disappear, unless centre action be vigorously kept 
up, just as uniformly as the life of personal religion in the 
soul. The spirit of the world, and the antagonism it fur- 
nishes to religion, however modified, are essentially the same ; 
and the nearer the opposing forces approach to an equilibrium, 
the more equivocal must be the position of that which de- 
siderates conquest. Mere tactics avail little, if there be no 
high belligerent tone to support them. Even advantages 
of position, and an almost yielding mould of public feeling, 
fail to secure the seemingly practicable results of such a 
season. The charter of conquest belongs only to an earnest 
Christianity. The full pitch of its energies, the unrestrained 
application of its resources, are at all times equally demanded 
for the strife ; and are, perhaps, really more taxed to ac- 
complish its ends, in what are called favourable times of 
the church, than in such as, externally at least, are most 
sternly adverse. 

The present condition and prospects of rehgion in our 
country, cannot be regarded as a matter of secondary interest 
to its friends, of every denomination. Its comparison with 
the past may be less difficult than it may be invidious, and, 
perhaps, discouraging. Its breadth is greater, but is its 
depth at all proportionate? Doctrinal polemics, and com- 
munional jealousy may be less rife, but are truth and charity 
more eminently enthroned ? There may be more tranquillity, 
order, and decorum in the religion of the day, but is it 
marked by the same strength, simplicity, and zeal, as former- 
ly ? The external cast of churches, as of nations and indi- 
viduals, may bear marks of social progress, which may con- 
sist with, and be the badge of a woful degeneracy. A 
well-defined and balanced church polity, — an exact rou- 
tine of public duties, — an elaborate organization for instru- 
mental action, — may conceal, but not replenish, the inanity 



TENDENCIES TO DECLINE. 65 

which renders the whole all but powerless for spiritual 
ends. 

The temper, and the morals too, of the world, may have 
invaded it, and have silently eaten into its very heart. There 
may be detected a growing laxity of practice, and an in- 
sensibility of conscience, in the conduct of worldly business, 
amongst professors of religion, — an eager passion for the 
accumulation of wealth and display, — a disposition to pay 
an excessive homage to rank and station, as class distinc- 
tions, with a proportionate indifference to the higher aris- 
tocracy of holiness, as seen apart from these distinctions. 

The balances of the sanctuary are not brought forth to 
try the things that differ, but the false balances and weights 
of worldly conventionalism, which are an abomination to the 
Lord, and a glaiing contradiction to every rule and sentiment 
of Christian citizenship. It is the glory which is '^ their 
shame, ^' who thus " mind earthly things." This dispropor- 
tionate and idolatrous regard for the world, becomes not 
merely the parent of many evils, almost imperceptibly en- 
gendered by the brisk, and even exhausting, career of as- 
piration, — its sure and most baneful offspring is covetousness, 
which neither reverses can destroy, nor prosperity satisfy. 
Like a despot, who has made his way to power by the de- 
struction of all opponents, and over the grave of freedom, 
it has seated itself upon the ruins of virtue, and usurped the 
place which belongs to God only. The ensigns of a higher 
power are indeed not effaced, but it holds no real sway there. 
A sordid lust is supreme, garnished with all the symbols of 
rehgion, — a painted, decorated abomination, — seeking to 
hide its turpitude from man, and to impose upon God him- 
self. This is ANTiNOMiANisM indeed ; not as it implies a 
disregard of a particular precept, but a dispensation from 
them all, in the ascendancy of one monster principle of hos- 
tility, before which Christ's sceptre hes abased in the dust. 
Mammon lords it proudly over the Cross, absolves its sub- 
jects from all heart allegiance, at least, and banters for 



66 EVANGELISM. 

cheapness in the imposts it allows. To observe temperately 
the customs of society, — to use the world without abusing 
it, — to render '' to Caesar the things that are Caesar's," not 
only as he is the executive, but the representative of the 
commonwealth ; so that society, as such, shall not be^ nig- 
gardly dealt with under the puerile, though honest plea, of 
an all-absorbing religionism, — is a practical wisdom, demand- 
ing not only the single eye, but the large and discriminating 
mind. 

The true Christian character, in its relative aspects to the 
world, is identity with difference. It is not devoteeism on 
the one hand, nor worldliness on the other. It is the 
*' moderation" which an apostle predicates of Christians, as 
theirs ; and which he requires they should make known to 
all men. It is a spiritual temperance, a heavenly medium, 
avoiding extreme paths to the right and to the left. It is 
Scriptural rectitude in its largest sense, not as describing 
one virtue, but including all, — like charity, which is "the 
bond of perfectness." It is wisdom as applied to character, 
and to Christian habits, — ^the just reflex of the " hidden 
wisdom" spoken among "them that are perfect," and equally 
necessary with it to make men so, in the exhibition of the 
entire model of their divine religion. Indispensable as this 
is, at all times, it is especially so in those calmer and less 
eventful times of the Church, when public attention is not 
engrossed by bold and striking action, — the sudden rush, 
and mighty feats, of extraordinary characters. Then reli- 
gion depends less on indi^ddual influence, or indi\ddual ex- 
cellency for its progress, than when such all- commanding 
agency is withdrawn. Then, more quiet influences come 
into play; character becomes more sovereign; and indi- 
viduality more important. The force of separate or com- 
bined temptation, which, in seasons of stronger feeling, is 
readily repelled, becomes more aggressive and injurious; 
the world and the Church are less divided, and coalition be- 
comes the great pressing danger to be averted. 



SYMPT0M3 OF DECLINE. 6? 

The inclination to indulge in speculation, beyond the 
bounds of clearly revealed truth, — to substitute opinions for 
doctrines, and to revive old heresies under new names, and 
plausible forms, — are indubitable signs of a far-gone apos- 
tasy ; and are as redoubts, cast up in the rear of a delin- 
quency, to preclude a return to *'the way everlasting." 
These are pre-eminently penal evils — offences offered to 
'^ the Spirit of truth," and often followed by long and dread- 
ful abandonment. But the preservation of evangelical doc- 
trine, pure and unmutilated, may consist with vast diver- 
sity of spiritual condition in the churches holding it; and 
orthodoxy itself may become little more than the watchword 
of a party, or the pride of a sect. It may have won for 
itself, in better days, an extended sovereignty over the pub- 
lic mind, and may remain in distant isolation, as the foot- 
steps of the ocean, on a coast which it has long forgotten. 
It is in the nature of all objective truths to become less im- 
pressive as they are familiar to us ; and, though it is said by 
evangelists, that when our Lord had done some mighty 
work, the " people wondered ;" such an emotion could not 
have been perpetuated by a continuity of even miracles. 
The same power of appeal to the heart is not resident in 
the same fact, or truth repeated, as when invested with the 
freshness of discovery, or the force of the unique. Hence 
the power of Evangelism, as a system of truth, must duninish 
in a similar ratio, and become proportionably less capable 
of accomplishing its end, except as it is the instruments of 
the Spirit ; who, reserving to Himself the more special sea- 
sons and examples of his sovereignty, is wont to proportion 
his operations to the proper laws of truth, and to become 
less striking in his effects, as his instrument is either less 
powerfully handled, or less heartily received. Thus, to a 
considerable extent, the action of Christianity, and the pro- 
bationary state of masses and individuals, are modified by 
the state of things termed ordinary and uniform, as distin- 
guished from the startling impetus attendant on the first 



68 EVANGELISM. 

blasts of the great gospel trumpet. The responsibility of 
hereditary knowledge, and more gentle visitations of in- 
fluence, is enhanced ; the whisper is to be obeyed, as if 
God had spoken in the thunder or the whirlwind. If truth 
be so incorporated wath mans's moral being, as to have be- 
come his own very reason, the oppugnancy to it is still 
more unnatural, and yielding to it more consonant with the 
highest divinely implanted instincts of man himself. But 
here a declination may begin, both in ministers and people, 
proving the stationary eminency of gospel demand. A 
hereditary and educational Christianity, comprising catholic 
belief, religious sentiments, correct morals, and even a zealous 
externahsm, may readily supplant the true kingdom of God. 
Semblances, or, at best, approaches to, and preparations for, 
the grand evangelical state, are accepted as its substitutes. 
Thus the standard being lowered, and the true doctrine of 
conversion practically given up, the work of disciplining men 
to a conventualism of any kind, becomes a less formidable 
task. Discipline is relaxed, older forms of fellowship, or 
marks of peculiarity, fall into disuse. The ministry is dis- 
posted from its teaching supremacy, as Christ's ordinance, — 
mutual confidence in it is impaired, — and its fruit, to a great 
degree, consequently disappears. A palpable extension may 
be noted, multifarious supplemental agencies may be set on 
foot, new toils laid for the prey, a broader, and more skil- 
fully contrived net fabricated, by which to sweep and 
dredge the social deep ; but the effort is followed by 
no proportionate spiritual results. The visible of religion 
is more extended, but its tone is feebler, — breadth and 
depth are not united, — the marks of merely human doings 
in religion, predominate over the proofs of God's own agency ; 
till the Church does not differ from the world, so much from 
its being the province of God's more immediate and spiritual- 
ly visible action, as from its being a separate sphere of re- 
ligious objects and associations. It is not so much " God's 
husbandry," '' God's building," or His creation, (the in- 



ITS HINDRANCES. 69 

spired representations given of it,) as it is the factitious com- 
bination of humanity religionized not evangelized by a bap- 
tism into the true mysticism, — the hfe and power of the 
Pentecostal age. True evangehsm, in our day, has to con- 
tend with the YQYj accidents of its own revival, or those 
previously found in the rehgious and social pecuHarities of 
our country. 

Differences of creed, and ecclesiastical organization, while 
they stimulate to common advantage, beget jealousies, with 
their brood of mischiefs. The proper effects of combination 
are wanting ; and while power is lavished on party preten- 
sions and interests, which ought to have been apphed for 
the advancement of religion, the motley and ill-joined ap- 
pearance which denominationalism gives to the impersona- 
tion of religion, detracts from its character, and influence 
over the world. Separate working is too often counter- 
w^orking. The supposed utility of separate sections of Chris- 
tians, is more than balanced by the evils arising out of them, 
and can only be vindicated on the ground that, under ex- 
isting circumstances, they are necessary, and may be made 
to harmonize with our duty to Christ, and to one another. 

The external causes of a depressed evangelism are many, 
and of formidable force. It has never approached to ascen- 
dency in the national mind. Its progress in the social scale 
has not been higher than the middle classes, with, perhaps, 
a proportionate amount of the humbler population. Few 
traces of it have appeared in the Senate, while it has scarcely 
touched at all on the circles of wealth and dignity, in the 
land. Its course has been exclusively popular; as water 
rising from the valley to the mountain's base ; not as a sun 
looking down from its summit. In this respect, the evan- 
gehsm of our age is singularly primitive in the course it has 
taken. 

The MULTITUDES are said to have followed Christ. " To 
the POOR the gospel was preached," — " the common people 
heard him gladly »" The indignant question, *' have any of 



^0 EVANGELISM. 

the RULERS believed on him," was doubtless fotinded on a 
characteristic fact. The people beheld all the grand phe- 
nomena of the Redeemer's manifestation. They were the 
every-day witnesses of the glorious things, which, through 
all after ages, were to constrain the faith and wonder of 
mankind. But how httle is said of their superiors, favour- 
able either to their inteUigence or piety ! Herod had heard 
the fame of Jesus, and desired to see him ; but had never 
used the privilege of his meanest subject ; nor had Pilate 
concerned himself with the person, acts, or doctrine of 
Christ, till he appeared before him as a judge ; and from 
his Mps received sentence of death ! An apostle records not 
a sohtary fact, with its pertinent inference appended to it, 
but one bearing on it the sad and monitory character of an 
example, when he says, " which none of the princes of this 
world knew, for had they known it, they would not have 
crucified the Lord of glory." But the popular coui'se of 
evangelical religion has never been wide and all-per\^ading. 
It has never moulded to its own temper and service the 
national church, which on account of its position and re- 
sources seemed to be the only adequate instrument of effect- 
ing for it a thorough nationahzation. Here it has always 
been viewed as an alien, — almost as a heresy, — and has been 
met by so various and overbearing a combination of hostility, 
as to render its expulsion far more probable than its triumph. 
Pure Evangelism is too fraternal and cathohc, too equah- 
zing, and in its details too unproscriptive a thing, to consist 
with the spirit of ultra- churchism, with its darhng notions 
of hereditary privilege, and indefeasible salvation. This is 
in principle, though not in form, Romanism. It is essen- 
tially an unchristian system, because an unspiritual one. 
Its very root is carnal, and its flower and fruit bewray no 
celestial qualities. The spread of these principles of late, 
is not in evidence of a sudden apostasy in the body where 
they prevail, but of the accumulation of long slumbering 
elements, awakened into life by the breath of the tunes, or 



I 



ECCLESIASTICAL ANTAGONISMS. 7l 

the enthusiasm of a party. It rather reveals what had ex- 
isted than declares what is new ; and is less alarmmg as ex- 
pressing sympathy with Rome, than as parading the obse- 
quies of Protestantism, and the monuments that mark the 
dominion of the grave. This, as the index of a nascent 
Popery, is less pernicious than is its negative , teaching. It 
is equally a friend to infidelity, as to superstition ; lowering 
the tone of public veneration for the characters of the Re- 
formers, and undeimining a long- cherished public confidence 
in their doctrine and work. Rehgion itself becomes sus- 
pected, as partaking of the uncertainty, and consequent un- 
importance of a thing afresh brought into dispute ; while it 
fm'nishes to multitudes, the most convenient apology for 
treating it with contempt or neglect. 

The history of this heresy is instructive, as showing how 
Providence stays the mischief of movements counter to the 
interests of true rehgion, by denying to their authors the 
wisdom which ''discerns both time and judgment." The 
movement came too late, or too soon for its purpose. It did 
not forestall, it came in the rear of a great religious revival ; 
and its check was furnished in the very pre-existence of the 
thing it was intended to destroy. PubHc opinion was in 
the advance, and repelled the dotages of Romanizing eccle- 
siastics with a manly Protestant firmness, decisive of the 
issue ; and gave to popular and state interference, the honour 
of saving the church which its own pastorate was hasten- 
mg to subvert. 

What may be the reflective moral influence, and ultimate 
effects of recent changes in our constitution and policy, as 
it respects rehgion, it may not be easy to calculate, or to 
present in any very tangible and demonstrative form. One 
thing seems clear, that the withdrawment of that great con- 
stitutional element which our forefathers so thoroughly 
identified with its existence and value, is more than a theo- 
retic blemish. It is the public abandonment of its most dis- 
tmctive principle, whether considered as the bond of imity 



?2 EVANGELISM. 

between tlie legislative estates of the realm, or between the 
throne and the people. 

The no-religion, which is now to be regarded as the ver- 
dict of the people, or at any rate the judgment of the state, 
as the necessary result of the heterogeneous composition of 
the body to be represented, and provided for, is an oflfence 
to the majesty of the Supreme Ruler. It looks like a com- 
pact entered into by men of different views and character, 
to put His claims in abeyance, or rather to disregard them 
altogether. The philosophical society — the political club — 
the mechanics' institute — and the legislature of a great em- 
pire, are, on this point, thoroughly assimilated. The Pan- 
theist, the Idolater, the Infidel, and the Christian, are equally 
candidates for senatorial honours, and deliberate together 
on the laws by which the interests, and in many cases the 
consciences, of men professing to believe the Bible, are in- 
volved. 

All this may be political expediency, or even necessity ; 
but it is not the less a distinct, and, it may be feared, com- 
placent avowal of a national sin ; when the high ground of 
religion, on which our ancestors reared our polity, is aban- 
doned for the common ground of natural rights, and when 
the first offices of social fife, involving the highest interests 
of collective man, and by " Wisdom" consigned to her own 
tutelage, are shorn of every vestige of fealty to Heaven ; and 
consequently, self-proscribed from the range of its blessing. 
Such a political degradation of religion, amomits to a public 
apostasy, and cannot but bring a blight on the spirit of the 
nation, as a judicial reaction. It is the public denial of its 
national supremacy to religion — an infidel infringement of 
prerogatives — a chpping of its rule down to a merely per- 
sonal sway, or the private relationships of life. It may 
hold the throne of the individual man, or of the family, but 
not of the state. In the collective majesty of empire, nmn 
himself is made supreme. The rulers of the earth '' take 
counsel together,'' saying, " let us break their bands asunder 



POLITICAL REPUDIATIONS. 73 

and cast away their cords from us." It is impossible that 
religion, when thus repudiated, should at the same time ad- 
vance in public regard, and should glow and radiate from 
our hearths and altars, while struggling with a vampid and 
foggy atmosphere, which gathers taore and more upon the 
land, like the smoke of the bottomless pit. Its public and 
private action are, to a great degree, reciprocal. Nor can 
the vacant throne of religion be left without an occupant, 
in the form of some anti-christian combination. The house 
" swept and garnished," will be claimed by evil spirits, who 
** enter in and dwell there." A vacancy is impossible. 

The precarious and fitful atmosphere of pohtics, like that 
of our insular position, will embody its own vapours in new 
forms; successions of party combinations arise, which, in 
their fierce struggles, or pliant tactics, to acquire a brief 
dominion, show as Httle patriotism, as rehgion ; and offer up 
the most precious interests of the country upon the altar of 
expediency, or ambition. The most potent, or the most in- 
triguing and clamorous, are first to be appeased, and, if 
possible, satisfied. Every demand is met by ready and 
abundant concession. Agitation is both the test of truth, 
and the vehicle of sjmapathy ; and it becomes more rampant 
with success. Every fresh boon makes way for another, 
till the religious portion of the state, beholding with dismay 
their dearest interests put in jeopardy, anticipate the fortune 
of Ulysses and his followers — that of being finally devoured. 

The same expediency which dethrones religion, will also 
persecute it. This Proteus can be held by no bands, as its 
multiformity has no hmit. Legislation, stripped of its august 
and god-like character, sinks to the level of a trade or pro- 
fession. When subject to this unprincipled domination, it 
keeps no conscience, though the keeper of the noblest rights 
of man. Its professed neutrality on the highest subject, 
however wrong, is a less evil than its uniform sympathy 
with error, and its readiness to load it with patronage, when 

associated with poHtical power. Its whole art is simply 

4 



74 EVANGELISM. 

arithmetic ; it is concerned with numbers, with the gross 
calculations of weights and measures. It is the thing of 
to-day, with httle respect for the past, and none for the 
future. Its foundations are not lasting as time, and glorious 
as the Millennium. 

In close association v/ith this anti-christianism, we see 
the waning influence of the Sabbath; which, without a 
semblance of protection, in cases where the shield of legis 
lation might have interposed between it and the reckless- 
ness of public companies, in their greediness for gain, has 
been wantonly desecrated by the tongues, as well as doings 
of our senators. This tone of ridicule and defiance has 
been caught by the ungodly multitudes of our country, and 
repeated in trumpet echoes through the land. The lan- 
guage of the senate has been construed into a full dispen- 
sation from an ordinance of God, and the only efiect of 
mooting its better observance by its advocates from time to 
time, has been to leave the cause in a far more desperate con- 
dition than they found it. A legislative sanction has indeed 
been won, — but it is for its enemies.* Its bulwarks have 
been thrown down, instead of being repaired ; while, if any- 
thing were wanting to perfect the desolation, beyond the 
instincts and habits of ungodliness so abetted, justifications 
of the iniquity have been elaborated, in the form of argu- 
ments, proposterous enough, as going to make Christianity 
a party to its own destruction. 

The consequences of this anti-sabbatic conspiracy are 
sufficiently dreadful, in their public readings throughout the 
land. They have compassed, to an alarming extent, the 
abridgment of sacred territory, in the national mind, thinned 
the concourse of worshipping people, and checked the de- 
mand which otherwise would have arisen from the increase 
of population, and the amount of rehgious leaven in it, 
for an extended platform of ordinances. But this is not 

^ The recent Sunday Postal Arrangements are, in respect to this 
allegation, an amend to be gratefully acknowledged. 



THE SABBATH ITS FENAL VINDICATIONS. *I 5 

all, nor, perhaps, even the worst feature of the case. It has 
tended to damp the ardour and faith of the religious part of 
the nation ; to shock, astound, and paralyze, by the parade 
of such an inundating wickedness, as forbade even hope in 
endeavouring to encounter it ; while it may be feared, that 
in general, it has impaired the feeling of sacredness which 
so naturally belongs to the day, and infused the subtle poi- 
son of its sophistry, and the contagion of its example, into 
the bosom of the Church itself. 

As it fares with morals, so it does with the peculiar 
observances of Christianity : they seldom flourish, where 
general society yields them no homage ; and principle, with- 
out auxiUaries in public sympathy, is left to maintain its 
protest, and its warfare against national evils, alone. 

The disappearance of the habit of Sabbath-keeping, in 
a country, is the sure token of religious decay ; and is in 
fact the upUfting of the banner of Infidelity in the place of 
this great public sign of The Faith. A conscience loose from 
the obligation of the Sabbath, — which feels no difference 
between the sanctuary and the office — ^the sacredness of 
pubhc devotions, and the companionships and recreations of 
the world, — is surely not in a condition to be appealed to, 
on the more general question of the truth and importance 
of religion itself. Such a question is foreclosed by the 
audacity of that impiety, which has wrested from its sceptre 
its best defined, and most ^dsible domain ; prostituting it to 
the service of pleasm-e, or of mammon. 

If religion's voice cannot persuade men to cease from 
their labours, to forego their pleasures, and to combine in 
pubhc demonstrations of their belief, with offerings of 
prayer, thanksgi\ing, and praise to the Creator and Re- 
deemer of the world, where is its authority over conscience, 
its dominion over the thoughts and affections of men ? Or 
how can religion be a principle of social combination and 
mastery, if the very law of its pubhcity be abandoned, and 
the fulcrum on which its public leverage rest-s, be destroyed ? 



76 EVANGELISM. 

The figures employed in Scripture to describe and enforce 
it, give eminency to the doctrine of its pubhcity. "Ye 
are the hght of the world, — a city set on a hill, cannot be 
hid, (fee." And what is its light, as excluding its day? 
the hours when its rays are concentrated, and their powers 
shed upon the world, as from a meridian height ? Or, what 
its pedestal and form, except its pubhc and chartered wor- 
ship ? Nor can these be lowered, or superseded in the pro- 
gress of society, without the evils incident to a systematic 
irregularity following. The very pressure upon the inte- 
grity of religious ordinances, occasioned by the strength and 
rapidity of social development, cannot be yielded to, with- 
out an ensuing moral reaction, as injurious to the real inte- 
rests of society, as to those of rehgion itself. The rest, and 
re-invigorating efficacy of the Sabbath, become more ne- 
cessary as social organization is more elaborate, and its de- 
mands upon individuals increasingly urgent. The hurried 
pulse of a feverish system, gives signs of a tremendous 
action of the social stimulant, as exhausting as it is provo- 
cative. It damages physically, domestically, and morally. 
It drains to exinanition, it distracts almost to madness. 
The whole man is stretched upon a rack, or mechanized, as 
by a treadwheel. The world rises in its demands, upon 
men, as Pharaoh upon his slaves ; till existence degenerates 
into the lowest vassalage to sense and circumstancess. 

Philosophy and religion equally protest against this in- 
dignity. Is then the only effectual bar to tliis usurpation 
to be withdrawn ? Is the chain already intolerable in the 
weight and number of its Hnks, to be rivetted through both 
ends, after it has been coiled round its victim with crush- 
ing gripe ; as the fabled serpents wound round the body of 
Laocoon ? The great institution, which alone rescues man 
from the overbearing t3n:-anny of the world, and gives to 
his moral being pubhc notice of its distinction and destiny, 
must be maintained, as the very palladium of social, as of 
religious weal. 



CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. t7 

In the beginning, the whole fortune of man's race was 
made to hinge upon a positive precept, as a test of the 
moral subjection of man to God, and as the material em- 
bodiment of duty. And the positive bears its analogical 
importance still. It is bound up with, and subservient to, 
the moral of religion, in the institution of the Sabbath. 
It is the sign of a covenant relation beween God and man, 
distinguishing Christian nations from all others. It is the 
public recognition of a Saviour, as well as of a Creator 
— of the honours and obligations of Redemption, in addition 
to those of Providence. It solemnly defines man's rights 
in the world ; and reserving a portion of life for God's ser- 
vice alone, it sanctifies the residue for man's use, with a 
blessing derived to it from its sanction, and the tincture of 
its hallowing sacredness. It is a pause commanded by the 
relations of man to both worlds. It is the time-keeper of 
all engagements, — the divine arbiter of all proportions in 
cm- regards and interests — a guardian of our whole being 
— an intermedial paradise to earth's sojourner — a type, and 
an assurance of a last lot in heaven. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

•* Has man then found the remedy for the ills of man?" — ^Pascal. 

With the last observation is properly connected the notice 
of some characteristics of the age, one of which is that of 
extreme moti\dty and rapid transition. [N'ever was the 
world of man so little disposed to rest on the basis of the 
past, to survey its progress with satisfaction, and to con- 
clude the series of its social transformations in an Elysium 
so perfect and beatific, that to it the future shall add 
nothing. In this respect, the condition of man presents a 
singular contrast with the constitution and ordinances of 



^8 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

his dwelling. Above and around him, Immutability holds 
its silent reign. Everywhere, Order proclaims Omnipotency. 
Law, is equally the language of the depths, and of the fir- 
mament. Day and night are braced together in bonds 
iiTefragable. The cycles of the seasons, and the journeys 
of worlds through space, are all but samples of identic 
variety. Sameness is even perpetuated in the series of 
atmospheric changes, however subtle and undefined their 
causes. 

Nothing exterior to man is subject either to deterioration 
or improvement. It seems as if struck off at once, and for 
ever, from one great archetypal idea of perfection, yielding 
a sublime comment on the word of Scripture, " God re- 
quireth that which is past;'' that is, he reverts in the 
maintenance of his creation, to the grand primitive idea 
which gave it birth, and which is enthroned in its whole 
administration and issue. But man's history and present 
condition show every possible variety. His is, throughout, 
a revolutionary existence. It set in with his birth, and 
will impel him to his end. It seems as if man, in his mun- 
dane capacity, required an indefinite duration for his ex- 
pansion; and that, frail and httle as he is, indi^ddually 
considered, the total of his nature bears some analogy to 
its personal immortality, and can only approach the climax 
of its earthly glory by leisurely and inexplicable progres- 
sions. Its whole aspect is essentially prospective ; its prog- 
nostics ever deeply bespeak the future. Its instincts are 
all prophetic. It looks as if restless to break away from 
the earlier moulds of its being, and to cast itself into 
others ; to be struggling to free itself from restraint ; and to 
urge onward and upwards its faculties, as the insect breaks 
from its egg, or its chrysalis forms, till its spangled wings 
glitter in the sun, and waft it through the firmament. 

There is, in our humanity, an indomitable energy — a 
power of life — to force every barrier to its progress, and its 
confluence with the shoreless and unfathomable. It may 



UNFOLDINGS OF HUMANITY. 70 

pause, but only to recommence action with Herculean 
vigour. Its most depressed and set conditions, are but as 
the grave before the resurrection ; or as icebound, helpless 
nature before the vernal hours. Change will come. The 
treasures of improved ci\^Hzation, learning, moral and reli- 
gious expansion, are hoarded somewhere, and will find their 
outlets in due season. The seeds of the greatest changes 
are often dropped in silence, or during midnight, and the 
heavens water them when no eye looks on. If fire be not 
produced by the steel and flint brought together, an electric 
rod and spark may be conducted by an angel's hand, and 
the slumbering world starts up with horror on beholding the 
all-devouring flame. 

But, in whatever department of fife, or by whatever 
methods, the changes are brought about, involved in the 
progress of man, the Christian view of Providence is as con- 
sistent as it is consolatory. Something is left for something 
better. Progress is God's ameliorative order. It denotes 
the vastness as well as unity of His plans, all centred in 
man ; and the immeasm-able greatness of the resources fur- 
nished by his nature for their final accomplishment. Every 
event belonging to our social and moral history is pregnant 
with some weighty lesson, to be added to the pre-existing 
stores of experimental wisdom. 

Every epoch of time has solved some problem, and sug- 
gested others. It has exploded reigning fallacies, prompted 
fresh inquiries, and opened new fields of discovery in the 
departments of science, or in the practical economy of life. 
The obstacles to man's advance, (chiefly arising from his 
moral condition,) have beset his path in endless number and 
variety. Ages have been demanded for the labours, com- 
paratively, of a day ; and the point which a pure and un- 
fettered intelligence might have reached, as a bird by a dart 
of its wing, has been gained, as by the difficult steps of a 
traveller, through the briers and brushwood of a forest, or, 
as by a perilous wadmg through swamps and rivei^. But, 



80 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

though the progress has been tedious, and the action pain- 
ful and complicated, the phenomena are immeasui-ably more 
interesting, and their final results magnificent. 

The very physical law which dooms every man to a short 
and precarious earthly life, is a distinct provision for social 
advance ; inasmuch as it secures the perpetuity of that flexi- 
bihty which belongs to youth, and which could not consist 
with a long extension of indi\ddual life. The youth of the 
race is thus renewed, " hke the eagle's," which, with eveiy 
successive moulting and renovation of its plumage, becomes 
more vigorous in its pinion, its flight more adventurous, 
its eye more penetrating, and its evolutions more perfect. 
Individuals die, yet live, in their posterity, in new and nobler 
forms, — ^thus exhibiting a sort of social metempsychosis. 
Empires rise into glory, and perish like the gourd ; but their 
successors embody the elements of their greatness, and the 
results of their dominion. Even the sword, — dreadful and 
bloody as an instrument of carnage, — ^the curse and disgrace 
of the race, — has been the ploughshare of civilization, and 
the reaping hook, both to destroy the tares of vicious domina- 
tion, and to gather the harvest of literature, arts, and reh- 
gion, for the more general benefit of the world. The ex- 
treme activity : the widened circle of human interests and 
human agency ; the quickened intelligence and passion for 
knowledge, and superiority of every kind ; the redundancy 
of invention and experiment ; the overflowings of informa- 
tion ; the tendencies to subvert and rebuild ; the eagerness 
to question nature in every form, and to extort her secrets ; 
to leave the shores timidly edged by former generations; 
and measuring the ocean, like Columbus, to search for new 
worlds in the realms of idealism and of science, thus giving 
to nature a new birth, and a higher glory to man : — these 
are the peculiarities of the age we five in ; and the number 
and weight of the elements thus commixed, constitute a 
universally attractive force, by which all forsake their own 
centre for a common one, and enter into combination for tlie 



ENERGY EXPANSION ASSOCIATION. 81 

production of grand results. As the effects of this in- 
creased momentum are everywhere visible, the Scripture 
notice of the world of man is most strikingly illustrated : 
"All things are full of labom'." 

All opening mind is saluted, by complex influences, to a 
degree formerly unknown; which, greatly tending to ex- 
pand, are proportionably mighty to debase, or to elevate it. 
Self is far less individualized, — character, far less the effect 
of independent volition, than of association. Nature is less, 
aitificialism greater, than it was. The man is not made 
so much by himself, as by his fellows. He is more 
thoroughly impacted in the mass, and blended with the 
social essence. The action of society upon individuals is 
stronger ; personal influence is in the inverse ratio ; while 
the pomts of contact between man and man are multiplied, 
the channels of influence are exactly proportionate, — but the 
quahties of it will truly represent society as it is ; and, if 
corruption be in the ascendant, its tendency is to self-per- 
petuation, and even to absolute sway. 

The obvious bearing of a social state, such as has been 
described, is anti-religious. The tastes, sympathies, and 
con-espondences of man, thus awakened into the full tension 
of his powers, are pervaded with an utter worldliness. 
Moral ideas and impressions fade away in the intense en- 
grossment of his nature in the scenes around him, and reli- 
gion holds but a precarious sceptre amidst the eager, up- 
roarious multitudes, who seem bent on forgetting that they 
have other interests or being than the present. Their con- 
versation, reading, occupations, interests, — all convey this 
impression. Men's communications with other lands are 
now so wide and frequent, that they are no more citizens 
of a countr}^ but of a world. The collective voice of nations 
is conveyed to a single spot. Men are no longer limited to 
a few points of an adjacent territory, then- commimionism 
is as wide as the world. The seas are literally become the 
high roads of all nations. Wealth is not now the last result 

4* 



82 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

of patient tradesmanship, of moderate traffic, and regular 
returns : it is rather the upshot of a game soon won, but 
oftener lost. 

In such a country as England, where, to a peculiar thrift 
and indomitable energy of character, is added, the constantly 
increasing pressure of an advancing population, — and where 
manufacturing and commercial enterprise has been pushed 
to an unparalleled extent, the ordinary laws of social life 
are, to a certain degree, cancelled. The vibrations of so 
mighty an engine as this social organization represents, are 
tremulous through all its parts, and its power reacts upon 
itself, just in proportion to the impulse it gives to the world. 
Its derangement, therefore, becomes a periodical necessity. 
The very extent of its machinery, and the massiveness of 
its action, tend to bring it to a stand-still, and to render its 
resuscitation more and more difficult ; while the importance 
of it becomes more and more paramount. The bread of 
millions, becomes contingent on causes over which they have 
just as little control, as they hold over the winds and the 
weather. Plenty and want are no longer the ordinances of 
heaven and earth ; other agencies now interpose between 
man and his supplies, all the more vexatious, as they seem 
arbitrary, — appertaining to man himself, and to the artificial 
condition of society. The times are currently referred to, — 
not so much what God does for man, as what man does for 
himself, or men for each other. By these mists, which 
arise from the furnaces and laboratories of modern life, the 
vision upward is obstructed, and men but too generally see 
their divinities in the forms of their fellows, and the work 
of their own hands, through the light of these fires. The 
consequence of this state of things, is a very materialized 
condition of the national mind. The burden of the world 
upon every class of men is excessive. The game of fortune 
is played by so many hands, in so many forms, and with 
such strange results, that men are thoroughly absorbed in 
it, and society is kept in a state of fluctuation. The rich 



FLUCTUATION SECULARITY. S^ 

and the poor suddenly change places. The precipitation 
from the summit, and the scaling-ladder, crowded with 
eager aspirants, conducting them to the enchanted spot, 
form a spectacle to contemplation not unlike to that of an 
assaulted citadel. Every man is seen labouring to keep his 
footing on the ladder, and to rise upon it ; while, in multi- 
tudes of cases, the alternative of success is irretrievable ruin. 
To this sore travail is England doomed. With its name 
illustrious, its dominion vast, its wealth unbounded, it pays 
the price of its own greatness in the hardest measure of the 
curse — the sweat of the face. It is as Hercules, toihng 
with every muscle on full stretch, in the service of its own 
glory, — a mastery of name and of influence, felt through 
the compass of the world. It is, indeed, a hard lesson for 
its people to learn, that their lot, from first to last, is the 
veriest struggle for life ; and that millions must toil to rear 
more than pyramidal glories, which shall neither enclose their 
treasures, nor perpetuate their names. Nor is this the lot 
of a solitary class, however numerous. All are made to feel 
the whole duty of man is (if not a struggle for life) nothmg 
more than an apprenticeship to wealth. Every trade, art, 
profession, is driven to the extreme point, as the only 
law of individual safety, not to add, of prosperity. Nor is 
it possible to beheve that, under so tyrannical a rule as this, 
which overbears all classes, the authority of conscience, and 
the voice of rehgion, would be obeyed ; or the ascendency 
of sound moral principles be maintained. Swarms of im- 
positions are procreated by the impulses of necessity, and 
the hope of concealment. The plea of interest, or neces- 
sity, overrules whenever Right would bring out her cause, 
in so corrupt a court as this. The judge fears not God, and 
therefore regards not men ; nor is it within the province of 
the wisest and best administered system of earthly jurispru- 
dence to do more than mitigate this evil, which everywhere 
taints and afiiicts society. It can but imperfectly repress 
crime, but cannot create virtue. 



8'4 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

Where the law of heaven is itself inoperative, human 
legislation must be comparatively powerless. The moral 
sentiments of a community being feeble, the moral standard 
is correspondingly reduced. Mutual toleration of delin- 
quencies is established. Men leani to offend without com- 
punction or shame. Reckless speculations and nefarious 
tradesmanship, are justified by the force of circumstances, 
or the prevalency of bad example. The loss of honour, 
the sacrifice of integrity, and the ban of religion, are regarded 
as less evils than inferiority of caste, or the gripe of poverty. 
To heavy toils is superadded a still heavier load of cares, 
arising from personal and family prospects. The multitude 
of artificial wants created by progressive society, and class 
rivalry, is hardly met by the ingenuity and industry these 
means so strongly stimulate. Hope and fear, excitement 
and depression, alternate powerfully in the breasts of all 
found within this wide province of competition. The whole 
living energy of the man, as well as his time, is consumed 
in the mere material duties of existence, — rendering the 
Sabbath a day of idleness and dissipation, — the handmaid 
of the world, rather than the bulwark of religion, — a mere 
holiday and breathing time from secular exactions. 

This most characteristic feature of our country's society, 
is found in combination with another — as its natiu*al effect 
— the lack of moral and meditative power. Amidst a prodi- 
gious mental acti\ity, the higher functions of the soul are 
feeble and intermittent. Men live not sufficiently within 
the home of their own breasts ; their existence is objective 
and foreign. They are ever abroad, sohciting, or being 
solicited. Their life is a ceaseless tissue of agencies and 
impressions. The very highest prerogatives of man are 
seldom called into play ; those which at once create the 
noblest philosophy as well as religion; without which 
man can neither appreciate his nature nor his individuality, 
— his deepest wants, nor his coming destiny. He remains 
a stranger to himself — an untutored and fortuitous thing 



SUBSERVIENCY TO MATERIAL INTERESTS. 85 

— bome on the tide of mundane affairs, and whirled round 
the httle eddy of life and death. The mind demands, for 
its development, less noise and excitation from without. 
Its higher and wider sphere hes within itself. Its mys- 
teries, not its external and superficial relationships, shroud 
its real glories. On these the eye of religion is fixed ; 
she addresses not his senses, but his soul, — demanding 
leisure, thoughtfulness, self-inspection, individualization. 
Her oracles fall not on the crowd, — the scenes of bustle 
and dissipation, — but on man, closeted with himself, or 
found where her ordinances appoint — at " the posts of her 
doors.'' 

This over- wrought condition of society, tends to displace 
religion by repletion, and to annihilate it by evacuation : 
on the one hand, by the engrossment of material interests, 
and, on the other, by enfeebling the moral man. It com- 
prises every subject of human interest within the one idea 
of utilily ; the simple tendency of things to reheve the 
difiBculties, and to facilitate the advancement of society. 
On this ground is popular education, and even religion, 
patronized by the State. On a similar ground, the physical 
sciences are now in the first repute ; while the extension 
and popularization of these — flattering as it is to the general 
intelligence of the age — deepen the mould which gives this 
impress to the national mind. 

The doctrine practically announced by the intellectual 
animus of the day is, — that the physical is of greater conse- 
quence to the man than the moral, and science than reU- 
gion, — that which is progressive, than that which is fixed, 
— the inductive, or rationalistic, than that which is authori- 
tative, — ^in short, that which is of man himself y than that 
which is of God, The olden idolatry, which '' changed the 
glory of the incorruptible God, into an image made hke to 
corruptible man," re-appears, not in the grosser form of an 
image of his flesh, but the more magnificent deification of 
his mind. The object of adoration is not the hero, the 



M CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

statesman, the monarch, the philosopher, nor even reason 
itself, in the abstract, so much as the genius of invention, 
— the power that gives mastery to man over the surround- 
ing world, — or, it is the image of the developed social power, 
— or, still further, a political apotheosis, before which, as 
before the golden image of JSTebuchadnezzar, ''all people 
and languages " bow down. 

These bearings of the times are again described in the 
Literature which obtains chief currency and esteem. A 
reading age (such as this is, to an extraordmary extent) 
may discern, in the issues of the press, its own image re- 
flected. The supply of intellectual food is prepared with 
knowledge of the prevailing tastes of society — not with a 
view to create, or to rectify, so much as to indulge them 
as they are. 

Apart from historical productions, or those on general 
science, (in which the age is rich,) few seem to be written 
with any special or great design, — to teach anything im- 
portantly new to the world, — to propound, illustrate, or 
apply any great original principles in the nobler branches 
of human acquirement. They are often but the specious 
retails or ornaments of the massive merchandise of other 
lands, or other times, put forth in the more approved forms 
of popular vend. Every element is diluted, every substance 
attenuated. Literature has become too much a trade, and 
has contracted the basenes of its spirit, as it has been sub- 
ject to all the vicissitudes of the market. Its fashions have 
been as fitful as its texture has been flimsy. Production 
and competition have gone on proportionably increasing ; 
still struggling for new vents, and seeking either sordid 
gains or ephemeral fame. Not only has every grade of 
mind, and of class, been pervaded with sohcitation; but 
every vice and impiety sought out as patrons of this venal 
abomination ; till the press, that noblest organ of modern 
society — comparable to the heart in its relation to the 
body — has been perverted, to elaborate and diffiise poison 



LITERATURE INFIDELITY. 8T 

to the very extremities of the mass, rather than the vital 
issues of truth and holiness. From how large a portion of 
the literature of the age is religion altogether shut out, as 
an ahen, or unimportant thing, — a convicted imposture, — 
or an enemy laid under public proscription ! Its authority 
is not appealed to, to decide controversies; nor its light 
brought out from its great etherial fount, to guide in re- 
search, or to rid from perplexity. It is superciliously 
ignored. Men impudently reason, or dogmatize, as if God 
himself had never spoken, and they were left free to specu- 
late, to examine and settle, the first questions of existence, 
without any antecedent decisions, whether human or 
divine. The inventive and progressive characters of the 
age have beguiled men into a persuasion of human self- 
sufficiency, — that the past is to be abandoned for the 
future, — that nothing — no, not religion itself- — is to be 
regarded as absolutely fixed, but rather, as an element in 
social development — something having a mere subjective 
existence in the human mind, and, consequently, as liable 
to be modified as the nature of man himself. 

Thus religion is reduced to a mere division of human 
science, — a kind of poetic sentiment, or philosophic mysti- 
cism. It is no longer the sole divinity of science, simply 
because it is divine. It is no longer viewed as the heaven 
which is higher than the earth. Its supremacy is lost, 
whenever its origin is obscured. A subtle spirit of scepti- 
cism, the more baneful, as it is free from every taint of 
coarseness and blasphemy, is rife, where this species of in- 
tellectualism prevails. It is not by vulgar wit, mahgnant 
leer, or fierce attack, that Christianity is put down ; but by 
gentle innuendo, or by bold and striking, though not 
avowed, anti- propositions, — or, by the affectation of a pro- 
founder science. She is silently supplanted by the offer of 
something transcendental, the creation of soaring contem- 
plation, the biform product of poetic and philosophic 
genius together ; a repast for the intellect and the tast«, — 



88 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

for the imaginative and the susceptible in mind, — bringing 
with it a deadly opiate for the conscience — Lethean draughts 
— oblivionizing all the higher characters and prospects of a 
moral being. 

When, however, we refer to unbelief in any of its multi- 
form modes, whether simply negative, or virulently oppo- 
nent to the truth ; we are not startled by the appearance 
of an adversary altogether strange and unexpected. It is 
as old as that which it impugns and denies ; synchronic 
with the career of divine truth ; and itself the seed and 
substance of that evil for which Revelation is the only 
antidote. 

Every form of unbelief, as ascertained by history, or 
observation on existing facts, is one of the progeny of the 
great proto-pseudos, from which the world dates its misery 
and ruin. Its lineage is imbroken, and its affihation perfect 
as the type of the first offence. Its genius is the very shadow 
of the Evil One, and the breath of "that old serpent," who 
has victimized our race. The features, too, of that first 
birth of falsehood, are endlessly replicated in the artifices 
and assurances by which it seduces and destroys. " Your 
eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing 
good and evil.'* 

Faith is represented as a bondage to fiction, imbelief as 
the liberty of a man. Faith is imbecility- — its opposite, 
reason. The temper which marks the career of unbelief, 
and the versatile obstinacy with which it maintains its war 
against the Bible, mark the evil inherent in it, as the virus 
of the first and parent He. It is not the controversy of one 
age, or people. It is not confined to men of a particular 
class, profession, or bias. It has not spent itself, as other 
contests, — whether political, social, or philosophic, — never 
to be revived into active force, doomed to slumber with the 
dead, or exist in the historic record alone. It is no figment 
of opinion, or accident of interest, prejudice, or passion. It 
is peculiar to no season of commotion, and rapid change 



INFIDELITY ITS ORIGIN. 89 

in the currents of society, — but is the genuine offspring of 
our moral nature y and exhibiting a strange anomaly with 
its general characteristics of exorbitant credulity. That 
unbelief is not the verdict of reason, is evident, alike from its 
tactics and spirit, as well as origin. For what is the object 
of its incessant belhgerency? What are the principles 
which it adopts in the contest ? and what the ends pro- 
posed to be accomplished by its victories? What is its 
object of assault, but that very thing which, if real, were 
man's greatest boon, and God's chiefest gift, — so that, a 
priori, to assume it as truth, rather than an imposture, 
should be the bias of reason and of the heart. The appall- 
ing fact that men fabricate, cling to, and rest in error, may 
itself instruct us how precious a treasure truth is ; and that 
the supernatural, as the basis of religion, which is the 
doctrine of human nature, historically considered, rather 
imphes its truth, than any fallacy in the principle itself. 
To be compelled to disbelieve any recorded interpositions 
of God, for the benefit of such a world as om^s, were a last 
and saddening alternative to reason and philanthropy. Life 
and destiny should be held too dear, to permit men willingly 
to abandon any auxiliary, or guide, to good — how much 
more to contemn, even but a slenderly authenticated Reve- 
lation from Heaven ! Supposing the progress of the human 
mind, in intelligence, to tend toward an era of final iman- 
cipation from its past and present disabihties, and to insm-e 
a grand millennium of philosophic light and freedom ; does 
such a romantic idea preclude the utihty, or necessity of 
Di^dne revelation ? May not the theoretically possible to 
man, be made immediately and universally practicable, by 
the shorter method of an intervention of Almighty grace ? 
May not difficulties be removed, great questions be deter- 
mined, and the province of speculative, as well as practical 
truth, be greatly enlarged by such a gift ; — which, divulging 
the secrets into which reason could not pry, and interpret- 
ing the sympathies of our nature by a vi^ad presentation of 



90 CHARACTEBISTICS OF THE AGE. 

their related objects, — sets us at once in tlie path of endless 
acquisition, instead of permitting us to waste our time in 
aspirations after the Unknown, and to hve and die enve- 
loped in the mists of ignorance, or conjecture ? 

But if, in addition to such reasons of appreciation, the 
one great fact be looked upon, that the rule of day and 
night, through the long track of past ages, has been strictly 
defined by the presence or absence of this Divine provision, 
that truth is thus shown to be traditive, — brought to man, 
not arisen out of him, — that reason never anointed her 
own eyes that she might see, or lighted her own taper to 
clear her path, or gave elasticity or force to her own 
opinion, that she might pierce the heavens, fetch oracles 
from that high pavilion, and speak them over the world ; 
and if, further, fact testifies, that intellectual perversity 
and moral iniquity, are each other's counterpart, — ahen, 
treacherous, loving and making a lie : — instead of showing 
the purity and brightness of the beam, which, wherever 
darted on the world's surface, and straying over creation, 
never fades, and is never severed from its heavenly fount : 
and if, too, the Book of Heaven be no inventory of com- 
mon places, either in morals, worship, or theology, but the 
record of a dispensation suited to our world, not to all 
beings ; the declaration of a fact of which our whole expe- 
rience is the proof, — and of a remedial counterpart : in fine, 
such a class of special facts and doctrines as no reason could 
have reached, and no progress have ever overtaken, much 
less left behind ; and these tested by men for centuries, — im- 
perfectly and but incipiently it is true, — yet so as to entitle 
them to rank among our experiences, immensely amehora- 
tive, and germinant of future glories : — then cannot op- 
pugnancy be the office of reason as it is truth-loving and 
beneficent, but faction, folly, ignominy, — and all attempts 
to garnish it with genius, with learning, and to commend 
it as either duty or interest, are but the skill of the poet's 
devil, — to make '* the worse the better reason," — or, rather. 



INFIDELITY ITS SPIRIT AND AIMS. 91 

of the Bible Satan, loving to transfonn himself into an 
angel of light. 

Reason, in its legitimate exercise, is concerned in the 
discovery, estimate, and apphcation of truth. Its office is 
not only to discover, but to discriminate and classify. It 
considers not truth under one aspect merely, or as of one 
land ; nor can it seek to elicit it, therefore, by one method, 
or test it by one canon. Belief and demonstration are cer- 
tainly not convertible terms ; but is this a disparagement to 
propositions confessedly revealed ? If so, of what worth is 
the doctrine of probabilities to us, viewed as a practical 
principle? and to what a dimmution of the number and 
force of our motives must we submit, if the empiricism of 
the sceptic be our rule ? Certainty may well consist with 
degrees of evidence, con-esponding with variously gifted 
minds. Nor is it an inconvenient hypothesis, which, as- 
suming the fact of revelation, assumes also, that the appre- 
ciation of its evidences, should be a chief feature in our 
moral trial. On the supposition which scepticism adopts, 
this is excluded from faith ; for faith itself is confounded 
with science. But this is manifestly wi'ong, where the de- 
votion of our wliole nature to a principle is required, not 
the bare assent of the intellect. Moral judgments are 
included in faith, — more thoroughly testing the disposi- 
tions of the heart, than the strength of the understanding. 
They more specifically refer to the will of a responsible 
being, than to the faculty of a contemplatist, dead to all his 
relations to a judicial administration. Even if candour 
could admit a doubt respecting Revelation, it would surely 
give it the benefit of that doubt ; to act on preponderating 
e\ddence, being, in general, a dictate of wisdom, — the oppo- 
site in this case, must surely be stark folly. But were this 
a question of reason only, the friends of Revelation would 
not decline the challenge to settle it by her arbitration. 
The field is their own ; their chieftains are the first names 
on the record of fame, and their resources, though taxed 



92 CHAHACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

more severely tlian it is likely they can be, are inexhaus- 
tible. 

It is not from intellectual strength, and well-put objec- 
tion, that the cause of revealed truth shrinks. It rather 
seeks them. But its difficulty is with those who deaf in 
quirks and cavils, — ^with the manufacturers of sophisms, — 
the smart and dexterous conjurors, who call up intellectual 
phantoms at pleasure ; and who resemble the dragon of Her- 
cules, presenting a new head, as often as one was struck oiF. 

The great Latin poet, in his immortal epic, represents 
^neas, in his path to the shades, as wielding his steel with 
heroic force, against groups of foes, too etherial to be 
wounded. So, oftentimes, it fares with the sword of the 
Spirit. That which it encounters is so purely a negative, 
that its extinction cannot even be predicated. The defen- 
ders of the faith, doomed to this monotonous toil, (were 
it anything but sacred,) might well complain, when seeing 
themselves represented by Ixion, ever turning his wheel, 
or Sisyphus, forever rolling his stone. 

The professsion, not unfrequent with sceptical writers, of 
a strictly philosophic impartiality, as the prevailing tone of 
their inquiries, is not more preposterously falsified in the 
specimens of this temper they exhibit, than the profession 
itself is absurd. The nature of religious inquiry, forbids 
the possibility of such an assumption, as may fairly consist 
either in physical investigation, or with the more abstract 
inquiries of a metaphysical and transcendental sort. Eeli- 
gion altogether repudiates this fiction. It is talismanic 
over the whole man, and will search and detect his most 
latent propensities, for or against itself. On him, con- 
sciously or unconsciously, as a test of his moral nature it 
must be operative ; and yield an analysis of his principles, 
often humiliating, always complete. This position may be 
trusted, and applied to the solution of a multitude of phe- 
nomena, found in the history of religious investigations; 
and its proofs may be gathered from a large field of sceptical 



INFIDELITY ITS UNREASONABLENESS. 93 

literature, especially such as affects a critical and rational- 
istic character. 

There is a congi-uity between individual quahfications 
and the objects of study, as applicable to religion as to any 
thing else. There is a certain cognate, or acquired euphony 
of soul, called taste, which is requisite to a truthful judg- 
ment, on various classes of artistic or mental products. The 
works of the poet's, the sculptor's, or the painter's genius, 
for example, are abortions to the rude and stolid portions of 
mankind. The nature awakened by them into fascination, 
must have been touched by a kindred force. The soul 
betrays its affinities with them, by the fire which they 
enkindle, and the unison they inspire. 

Education is but an attempt to expand nature, to a full 
con'espondence with the field of its relations and interests ; 
— to draw it out into breadth, refinement, sympathy; for 
where these are wanting, it remains isolated, ban^en, dead, 
• — ^if not antipathic. Let this remark be applied to the 
qualifications proper to sacred studies, and it will at once 
appear, how incongruous the mental habits of a philosopher, 
mathematician, or dialectician, as such, are to a full and 
fair dealing with the question of Revelation. Anatomy 
and psychology hold more affinity with each other, than the 
whole cycle of human science does to the purely super- 
natural and divine. From these sources alone, therefore, 
affinities to the Sacred, and qualifications for its research, 
can never spring. Even a negative impiety may be a fatal 
barrier to converse with truth; while the antipathies of 
nature, adventitiously supplemented, may entail a total 
privation of the moral cue indispensable to success. A 
deep reverence for rehgion, coupled with a docility of mind, 
against which the pride of nature wars, — a solemn sense 
of responsibility, which excludes trifling and insincerity, — 
which strongly seizes the idea that the question of Revela- 
tion, or no Revelation, is a vital one to all, — and to be settled 
by the force of comiined evidences, rather than that of a 



94 CHARACTERISTICS OF THE AGE. 

solitary testimony, and by a regard to the consequences of 
the negative, as well as to those of the positive, — these 
implied, if not formal axioms, must inform the mind of 
every student of divine truth. 

There are mental states, not peculiar to a professidii, or 
any classes of men, totally repugnant to the native aspects 
of truth, — not less so than those, which overcharged with 
the ideas of human venality and worthlessness, — deny 
that integrity is more than an idea, — or, virtue of any kind, 
a human concrete. The profession of it encounters a leer, 
and its advocacy is identified with hypocrisy. An affected 
pity is expressed for the credulity of mankind, and the 
sham which everywhere holds sway. In this temper, 
there is, perhaps, an equal mixture of vanity and callous- 
ness, — of the disingenuousness, and the egotistical. The 
sarcasm, the scoff, the jest, the flippant, subtle, bitter, per- 
version of all fact, — and by honesty, readily accepted verity, 
— are missiles flung over society with deadly force. Truth 
is, indeed, unhurt; but its weaker disciples may be wounded, 
or slain, — its conquests wrested from it, and its triumphs 
abridged. Truth, considered as revealed, may have its 
own criteria, (though still in harmony with human modes 
of notification,) which may be overlooked, or spurned, if 
the love of the heavenly doctrine be wanting. Between 
the initiated and the uninitiated, even the mysteries of 
Paganism are discriminated. The old formula of reproba- 
tion — " procul este profani " — being as appropriate an ad- 
dress of inspiration to the godless host of scrutinizers, as 
it was to the hps of the ancient hierophant. Faith, is first 
tentative, then remmierative. Its revelations are progress- 
ive, — its evidences accumulative. It imfolds its mysteries 
according to a law of disciplinary regime. Its end is not 
knowledge simply, but virtue, goodness, holiness; and, 
therefore, its visions brighten as its domain widens ; and the 
transfer of the soul's allegiance to its sceptre, becomes un- 
divided and engrossing. 



UKBELIEF. 95 

CHAPTER V. 

UNBELIEF. 

" God only can speak appropriately of God.'' — Pascal. 

The leading fallacies in all sceptic theories are glarmg. 
Tlie jfirst is an unwary, if not a wilful, assumption of self- 
sufficiency to dogmatize on points of religion, without any 
reference to the source from which this power is derived. 
Christianity is said to be as old as the creation — to contain 
eternal truths — to reflect our intuitions — and to give ex- 
pression to our moral instincts and cra^dngs, — in a word, to 
be, apart from a certain antique and grotesque vestment of 
the miraculous, a purely human thing. To co-naturalize 
Revelation with man, and thus to treat it with a freedom to 
which all human things are liable, is the necessary result of 
a usurpation, which has its type and condemnation in the 
character of a parricide ; or, in one, who, forgetting the en- 
tail of advantages conferred by a former age, or by a supe- 
rior race, ascribes his social position, in its remove from 
savageism, to the force of his own genius. For is it not ob- 
vious to inquire, whence this superior light has sprung? 
And, how questions which the giant powers of antiquity 
could moot, but never master, are now regarded as the 
veriest intuitions ? Or, how it has come to pass, that this 
sublime science is never found but in the wake, and under 
the pupilage of the Bible ? This, at least, looks Hke a fallacy, 
— a self-deception, — and one, too, insuring a progeny of 
vitiated reasonings and corollaries. 

Men, in the familiarity of perfect readership, naturally 
lose sight of the days of their alphabet ; and when accom- 
phshed in science, of the rudimental steps beyond which 
they are now so far transported. The eye, long used to 
the sight of rising and setting sims, retains no consciousness 



96 UNBELIEF. 

of the first greetings of tlie light. To adopt, and to sub- 
stantiate, all external and objective things, is the grand 
property of our nature ; less concerned what these things 
are, in the abstract, or the modes of their correspondence 
with themselves, than with their impressions and residts. 
The objective, thus incorporated with our entu'e constitution, 
becomes identified with our consciousness, and with the ex- 
ercises of our faculties, just as if innate. This, however, is 
rather in proof of the affinity which belongs to all Truth, 
and to the nature formed expressly to be its recipient, than 
of the productive power of the faculties themselves. 

Language is a traditional thing, though its faculty be in- 
herent m our common nature. No man invents his own 
speech; nor can it be supposed to be any thing originally 
but a divine endowment. To dogmatize, or to reason on 
the principles of religion, to w^hatever degree truthfully done, 
men are indebted to conditions of their faculties, induced — 
not indigenous. They have been ushered into a sphere, 
illuminated antecedently to their personal life ; and have 
caught imperceptibly, but powerfully, the influences of 
society partially Christianized. Thus the later Platonists 
approximated to the Christian doctrine ; yet, agreeably to 
the craftiness of modern sceptics, refused to own the real 
source of their emendations. They felt the power of the 
light newly risen on the world ; but, true to the instincts 
of depraved nature, they adhered still to the all-sufficiency 
of human genius, and endeavoured to usurp and amalga- 
mate the boon, whose real origin they ignored. Hence, too, 
sprang the refined elaborations of ancient sophistry, when 
setting itself to garnish with the elegancies of a mythos the 
nauseous, and puerile fables of the theogony; and to re- 
duce these wild and senseless jargons to an apparent har- 
mony with philosophic truth. In all cases, ancient or mo- 
dern. Divine Truth is the only guide of mind. Men have 
no more invented their moral and religious sentiments, than 
the light of the firmament above them, or the civilization of 



ITS SOPHISTRY AND PLAGIARISM. 97 

the country, wliose advantages they enjoy. It is not, strictly 
speaking, natural reason, or natural religion, with which 
they are conversant, but reason and religion adventitious, 
though repudiated. The mental emii^nce has been gained 
by a ladder, afterwards thrown down as useless, by those 
who now assume a cherubic wing, floating proudly in the 
high regions of etheriahsm. But it is a mean and hollow 
artifice they have invented, who thus flatter themselves, and 
delude others. It is uttering against this fraud but a slight 
protest and condemnation, to brand it as the vilest of all 
plagiarisms ; or, to point against it the irony of the fable of 
the bird, Avhich decked itself in peacock's plumes. It is the 
very arrogance of impiety, vvhich, disdaining to be beholden 
to God for that Avisdom which he especially claims to be- 
stow, not only appropriates it A^dthout gratitude, but wrests 
it to self-perversion, and public ruin. Until the question of 
divine revelation shall have been negatived, by an irrevocable 
verdict of those to whom it has been proposed, the abstract 
possibility of reason's sufficiency must be considered as 
actually superseded, and that it has no important bearing 
on the interests of mankind. The world is not, and neve^r 
was, in a condition to tiy this question. 

But such a fact is self -interpretive ; suggesting also, what, 
indeed, the Bible affirms, that Revelation was a primitive 
super-addition to naturalistic teachings, and, in point of order, 
antecedent to them. This hypothesis well agrees with the 
miraculous outset, which the existing course of nature pre- 
supposes ; and leads us to infer, that as both were blended 
in the constitution of the primeval state, so the subsequent 
form Revelation assumed, when this became deranged, was 
not a novelty in the divine rule, but a continuation of it, 
especially modified to altered circumstances. The sceptical 
principle, therefore, excludes the half — and the stronger half 
— of the primitive staple of a moral Rule. The mediate, 
and the immediate, as sources of communion with the Deity, 
being associated, the necessity of this collocation undoubt- 

5 



M UNBELIEF. 

edly follows, and its actual permanency is as certain, as, in 
the present condition of the world, it is obviously paramount. 
Traditions, in the course of time, are either lost or mutilated. 
The race, in its surface developments, and surface accidents, 
would needs become dissevered from its first foci ; and, 
disintegrated into innumerable fractions, would bear a fainter, 
and yet fainter impress of its family faith, and of its family 
blood. Hence, would arise the necessity for modes of con- 
servation most agreeable to the laws of human society ; for 
renewed interposition, or enlarged announcements. Incipi- 
ency would imply continuity and progression. The elec- 
tion of persons, or people, to certain offices would follow, — 
the gift of covenants and institutions, of laws and symbols, 
— all pertaining to the maintenance of one purpose, — the 
consummation of a grand remedial system for the world, 
fully sufficient to remove the evils of superstition, and false 
worship, incident to man, in all ages, and all conditions,T- 
and also, that class of evils springing out of a stimulated 
intellectualism, among which. Pantheism and Atheism hold 
baneful pre-eminence. 

Between the brood of mis-behefs, and the extremes of no- 
belief, Revelation stands midway, as the grand poise and 
regulator of mind, — universally needed, as universally de- 
signed, — making the simple, wise ; and the wise, humble. 
It is the standard of our opinions and moral sentiments, — 
fixed, impartial, perfect, — reveahng a close affinity between 
the most extreme conditions of men, as they are ignorant 
of, or spurn its guidance ; and detecting, as brilliant illu- 
sions, all ideas which men vaunt of progress in the path of 
a divine philosophy, when itself is left in the rear ; and the 
experiment is still wrought on, of kindling up a transcen- 
dental glory from the powers of the steel, ffint, and tinder-box. 

The moral inanity, wild conjecture, unfair deduction, and 
special pleading, of Scepticism, (against what, with its array 
of evidences, and breadth of human embodiment, may well 
assume to be divine,) sen^e to suggest, as a close analogy to 



OPPOSED TO SUPERNATURALISM. 99 

its character, the hireling advocate, wliose business is not 
Avith truth, or justice, but with his cause only ; to whom a 
conscience would be a greater enemy than a tyrant to a 
slave, and whose fame and fortune are reared on the ruins 
of all that bears the dignity of a man. 

A second fallacy of scepticism, is found in its absolute 
renunciation of the supernatural in rehgion, — a manifest 
assumption, on its side, of the question at issue. This weak 
impertinency may well excite our wonder, from the professed 
disciples of philosophy ; whose sole aim being to answer the 
question, " What is truth ?" ought not to foreclose, what is 
not only fundamental to the controversy, but of the gravest 
consequence to the world. This is, in evidence, that dog- 
matic boldness is by no means peculiar to the advocates of 
faith, but is largely drawn upon by their opponents ; and, 
with an inconsistency as ominous as it is flagrant. " Give 
me," said one, " where to place my lever, and I will move 
the world.'' This challenge is re-echoed by the champions 
of unbelief; but, wherever such ground may lie, assuredly 
their lever may not be allowed to rest on this datum, so as to 
overturn the faith. It cannot be allowed, for instance, that 
the uniformity of present experience, should be an absolute 
test of all experience whatever, either past or futm'e. This 
would land us in the region of absurdity. Even geological 
facts, (to omit reference to any other,) would utter an effec- 
tual disclaimer against such presumptions, were the con* 
trary testimony, in the inspired relation of the facts of crea- 
tion, set aside. No appeal to Nature, to verify this oracle 
of unbelief, can meet with a favourable response. Nature 
gives it, most unequivocally, the lie. Besides, such a prin- 
ciple cannot be put forth, as fundamental to reasonmg, 
against the claims of Revelation; unless the grounds on 
which it rests were shown to be unanswerable, or even pro- 
bable — a task which we may pronounce utterly impossible. 
For who can be entitled to presume, that, in the plan of a 
di^dne administration respecting our world, no room was 



100 UNBELIEF. 

left for tlie display of sovereign interpositions, in certain 
stages of its progress ? or, that the perfection of the plan itself 
did not imply these ? Especially were it blindly presump- 
tuous to argue the opposite, in the face of facts, in the his- 
tory and experience of man, most conflicting and mysterious. 

There is, indeed, scarcely a point in Revelation, assailed 
by the blind impetuosity of unbelief, which has not its coun- 
terpart in the plainest facts of Providence; to contend 
against v/hich, implies either idiocy, or worse than this, a 
rampant Atheism. The gist, however, of the sceptic objec- 
tion, against the supernaturalism of revelation, is, like every 
other form of impiety, due to a moral, rather than an intel- 
lectual origin. AVithout any ghmpses of a pristine glorj^ 
from which human nature has descended to the degeneracy 
of helplessness, bondage, and darkness together, it is devoid 
of sympathy with this fact, and of its auguries, however 
faint and enigmatic. It cannot discern the deep and fright- 
ful chasm which this convulsion has opened, between the 
former and the present state of man ; and the impossibility 
of uniting these, but by an arch which the hand of Heaven 
has thrown across it. 

Were even the feeble irradiations of the invrard light re- 
garded, the grand moral of Revelation could not fail of 
being seized, and the supernatural, or, rather, the divme, 
which revelation proclaims, would be readily accepted, as a 
necessary truth. Then the w^onders of even external inter- 
position, such as constitute the facts of the Bible, would be but 
simple reflections of this principle — as it w^ere, outward and 
visible signs of movement, in tlie depths of the moral universe. 

But, not further to impugn this sceptical position ; a 
glance may be indulged at another offence against righte- 
ous dealing with the facts of revelation. It may be pre- 
mised, that its purely historical character is a fundamental 
one, and a strong presumption in its favour ; inasmuch as it 
is difficult to conceive how a revelation of universal and per- 
manent use to the world, could be otherwise presented, than 



SILENCED BY THE FACTS OF PROVIDENCE. 101 

by facts and records. If the supernatural be assumed as 
the basis, then it must be limited to particular ages, and 
modes of manifestation ; or, it must be spread over the whole 
face of society, and be a fact of individual cognizance. But 
how could this latter supposition consist with the ordinary 
course of Providence ? The supernatural coextant with the 
natural would lose its identity, and tlie principle of faith, as 
a moral criterion, would be obviously excluded. 

The most reasonable theory is, assuredly, that which best 
harmonizes v/ith the indisputahle facts of Providence y which, 
with respect to all the springs of human advancement, lodges 
them in particular ages, localities, people, and characters. 
Everything multiplies from a unit — amplifies from a 
centre, — and is like a solitary seed, which, if duly hus- 
banded, will in time overspread the world. This remark 
may be endlessly illustrated, and deserves to be pondered, 
because it is the very principle of the Bible ; and, therefore, 
a strong mark of its divinity. Historically considered, its 
evidences are more perfect than those of any other ancient 
WTitings. They have been preserved w^ith a care answerable 
to their unrivalled importance. Transcripts of them have 
been more varied and multiplied than those of any other 
book whatever ; vWiile the number, and diverse characteristics 
of its authors, taken in connexion with then' moral and theo- 
logic unity, increase, not lessen the force of the evidence 
of its divine origin. Its system of prophecy has interwoven 
prescience with a mass of facts, so historically its own coun- 
terpart, as to make its divinity radiant on all, except those 
who blindly scoff at w^hat they do not understand ; and its 
golden chain of miraculous events, extending through so 
many centuries, and forming a WTcath about the whole, 
were substantiated in commemorative ordinances, sacred song, 
acts of worship, and a familiar style of allusive recognition — 
not to. add, by the peculiar principles of a pohty, entirely 
based upon it. Of these wonderful phenomena no philoso- 
phical solution can be offered, but such as the history itself 



102 UNBELIEF. 

supplies. Similar observations are applicable to the records 
of the Christian faith, which are clearly traceable up to the 
age of its birth. The fact that, from the earliest times, they 
were owned as the productions of those whose names they 
bear, and regarded as inspired , when a deluge of apocry- 
phal and legendary writings had overflowed the Church, 
shows that their characters were broadly distinct to intel- 
ligent scrutiny, and that they had an unquestionable right 
to an exclusive supremacy, in the united judgment of those 
who, as unitedly, agree to discard forgeries. 

As the writings of the Old Testament, faithfully preserved, 
were the mirror ever reflecting the divine image of religion, 
and witnessing against the corruptions which human infi- 
delity had foisted into it, so the Christian Scriptures con- 
tain the self- expounding rationale of the Faith, and are stern 
witnesses against all the idolatrous and fraudulent intermix- 
tures with which man has dishonoured it. Without these 
records, or the gift of permanent inspiration, pure Christianity 
must have very long since perished. The great seal which 
Providence has set upon their divinity, hes in the subser- 
vience of a human embodiment to the tradition of the re- 
cord to be preserved, without which a historic credibility 
would have halted ; and in not peiToitting, on the other hand, 
this human medium to corrupt so precious a deposit. 

God has never separated the cause of his truth from a 
living human testimony. In this sense, the Church is " the 
pillar and ground of the truth " — even His cast-off" people 
still holding, with the utmost tenacity, their portion of the 
sacred writings, while the Christian Church maintains the 
authority of their own Scriptures ; but, in this instance, 
renderinof it difficult to decide, whether faith or imbelief 
yields a stronger support to the authority of the whole. 
Hence, to class the Scripture histories with the romantic, 
absurd, and impious legends of Paganism, is nothing less 
than a wanton insult offered to the Bible. The authors of 
such fabrications, offer proofs of the reprobate, or undiscem- 



WARFARE AGAINST TESTIMONY. 103 

ing mind, not less appalling than that with which St. Paul 
represents the worst of the heathen as judicially smitten. 
Further : to confound the sacred records with the clumsy 
fictions of the middle ages, or the forgeries of a religious 
despotism ; to insinuate their lack of proper historic criteria, 
or doubts as to the honesty, or veracity of their authors ; or, 
though dischargmg them from the enormity of intentional 
fraud, to transfer their extravagancies to the condition of 
their times; or modes of national thought and expres- 
sion, without regard to the moral of the record ; the cir- 
cumstances under which it was put forth, — and the position 
they were placed in toward the world, who ventured to 
give it publicity : — these imputations are the cHmax of 
folly, and are in melancholy evidence of a deep estrange- 
ment of soul from Truth. What need we further witness 
of the tenible force of our Lord's own words, " men loved 
darkness rather than light ?" 

Perhaps the advocates of Revelation can hardly escape 
censure, as injudicious, for the course they have recently 
taken in upholding its claims. They have laid less stress 
upon the external than the internal evidences of Chris- 
tianity : not that they have deemed these less truthful, 
or less important, than their predecessors ; but that the 
investigation of the moral substance of the record alone 
was sufficiently convincing, and more in accordance with 
the taste of the age. This, however, is a very exception- 
able proceeding ; it is neither agreeable to the Divine order, 
nor to the reasons of the case. The external evidences, 
properly considei'ed, are initiatory, and must, if established, 
settle the internal ones. Faith in the credentials of the 
Teacher must be prior to faith in his doctrine, whenever it 
shall rise above the level of our reason. To place reason, 
in the first instance, in the position of a judge of the doc- 
trine submitted to it, is to suppose the doctrine itself super- 
fluous, or, at least, not authoritative ; but the authority of 
the teacher once established, by evidence extrinsic to his 



104 UNBELIEF. 

communications, reason binds us to accept them as articles 
of faith, though it should be unable to reduce them, at any- 
time, to knowledge. It is no marvel that this indiscretion 
should have been perceived and abused by Scepticism, for 
its own ends. It obviously tends to obliterate the line which 
divides the objective and the subjective of religion ; to im- 
pair the substances and strength of revelation, as God him- 
self has made it — a matter-of-fact affair — a testimony ; and 
to prepare the way for a final and successful assault upon 
the matter of the testimony itself. 

The consummating element of the warfare of unbelief 
with the Bible, is found in its contemptuous rejection of 
the doctrine of insjAration ; which, even if not self- an- 
nounced, and steadily maintained by the Church, through 
all ages, is an irresistible inference from the nature of the 
facts and doctrines contained in the Scriptures, together 
with the purposes of God in giving such records to the world. 
It is impossible to admit that they may be paralleled by 
human compositions, or be confounded with the efforts of 
human genius; they could not answer their ends, as de- 
clarative and authoritative docimientSy or, in other words, as 
the vehicle of supreme laiv to man, infallible only, because 
insjAred. JS'o great questions could be referred to them, as 
to a last tribunal, imless they were, what St. Paul terms 
them, — " GoD-BREATHED.'^ In this glory they stand alone ; 
nor is it any presumption against this position, that they are 
stamped by this divine peculiarity with Incommunicableness, 
as by a sovereign fiat. God has enthroned them in this 
glorious eminency ; and he has not continued the gift in 
other forms of record, or in the successive generations of 
the living Church, because it was imnecessary. His whole 
mind on the highest questions of His rule, and of man*s 
nature, duty, and destiny, is comprised in the offices of 
redemption ; beyond this, there is no succession of related 
objects to him, in the line of an endless future. The 
echoes of God's voice, through eighteen centuries, vibrate 



WARFARE AGAINST INSPIRATION. 105 

as strongly as in the days when he spake to us by His 
Son ; and the silence which the world is compelled to own, 
when deaf to these, is as confiraiitory a sign, that the last 
seal has been broken by the Lamb, as it would be by the 
continuity of heavenly-attested communications. But in- 
spiration, if admitted, compels submission to its dictates, 
under threats of pains and penalties for the recusant. If 
it be law, this is inevitable, because duty to God must, in 
part, consist in reverent acceptance of his missives, — that 
is, in beheving His testimony, as well as in obeying His 
commands. In this relative position of the Bible and un- 
believers, it is obvious, that if they assail it with any other 
weapons than those of wit, banter and blasphemy, they 
have no alternative, but to employ false criticism, astute 
sophistry, and the most versatile resources of innuendo. 
They must either sm-render themselves to its plain and 
honest meaning, (because it were a solecism that Revela- 
tion should meet man on any other ground than common 
sense,) or they must bring down Scripture to their own 
standard — that is, palm fictitious meanings upon its lan- 
guage. On the former supposition, they would be im- 
believers no longer ; by adopting the alternative, the futility 
of their endeavours is not less striking than their impiety — 
to rationahze or mythicize the Bible being simply a literary 
burlesque ; — proving nothing, but that this whole class of 
anti-biblical meddlers need strong doses of hellebore — the 
ancient panacea for madness. 

It is a more manly, and, perhaps, less criminal act, to 
repudiate the Scriptures at once, than to toil in the fabrica- 
tion of meanings for them obviously alien from even the 
field of fair conjecture, — which it would be ridiculous to 
apply to any species of human authorship, — and converting 
the most stern and veritable of all witnesses into a mere 
puppet of human dogmatism. In this direction, as St. 
Paul wrote to Timothy, *' they shall proceed no further ;" 
for "their foil V is manifest to all men." 

5* 



106 UNBELIEF. 

All these attempts to force the Bible to symbolize with a 
false philosophy, only serve to show their fixed contrariety. 
They fairly join issue — Bible, or no Bible, is the only ques- 
tion worthy of dispute : and he that shall take the negative 
as his judgment — with the onus of a terrible responsibility 
— must, nevertheless, be allowed the wisdom of refusing to 
arbitrate in the preposterous task of reconciling contradic- 
tions. 

The fruit of sceptical aberration, is forever the same 
baneful, and anti-human thing. A divine standard of reli- 
gious judgment being abandoned, confusion must ensue. 
It is the loss of the rudder to the ship, in its course over the 
waves, or of the compass by which its destiny is reached. 
The natural inability of man for self-direction, so pecu- 
liarly bewrayed in religious matters, when the Truth is 
divorced, becomes prolific in speculative vanities. Nothing 
is fixed, nothinof is trusted. One foundation after another 
is ploughed up, until a bottomless pit is uncovered, into 
which human interests are rapidly flung ; and which, insa- 
tiate as the grave, still demands more. Even a pure Theism 
cannot maintain itself apart from Revelation. The Deity 
himself is lowered immeasurably to human apprehension, 
by the reign of that negativeism, which enthrones itself on 
the desolation of every monument of His interposing power 
and grace on man's behalf. He sinks into a mere Author 
of Nature, — perhaps even below this, — as the co-eternity 
and co-extension of matter with Himself, and its consequent 
limitation of his agency, would seem to be the necessary 
conditions of all nature, and of all events. 

That from such a chaos of sentiment great social evils 
should ensue, is as proper an effect as any which it falls 
within the range of reason and experience to expect. Of 
anti- christian tenets, a practical Atheism is the proper 
counterpart, engendering great vices, and small virtues ; 
huge professions of philanthropy and enlargement, with a 
tyrannical selfishness, which sucks everj^thing into its own 



ITS PRACTICAL MISCHIEFS. 107 

Maelstrom. Unbelief, as a negative, combines in it the 
forces of a most destructive positive. It unlooses the zone 
of all human relations. It disbands everything from its 
benignant office, and gives to everything hurtful, unlimited 
commission to do its work. It leaves no pillars, either to 
ornament or support the social edifice. It dissolves the 
spell from which all human spheres draw the music of their 
order. It inflames the passions, and annihilates the con- 
science. It deifies self, but destroys virtue ; and is de- 
graded below the basest idolatry, as the penalty of refusing 
worship to the God of the Bible. Its ripe development in 
society is Socialism, in its many hues, and with its levelling 
and bloody maul ; which, were it allowed to bestride the 
earth, would show a monster-birth of evil, unknown to 
former ages, even of our wicked and hapless world. The 
worst passions of men, enlarged to almost preternatural 
capacity by a far advanced civilization, and lashed into 
fmy by Atheistic fanaticism, would revel in the destruction 
of the vast and fair domains of modern life. The havoc of 
the conqueror, the cruelty of the tyrant, and the feuds of 
the savage, would no longer appear crimes or calamities in 
our eye, when this demon should have blasted the world, 
and have made it one vast heap of smouldering, putrefying, 
ruins. 

Amidst these reveries of idealism, the sobrieties of moral 
truth are unheeded, and its most awful oracles speak in vain. 
The disorders and miseries of the mind appeal fruitlessly for 
consideration, and relief, to an infidel transcendentalism; 
which is as barren of resources and of sympathy, as it is of 
truth. It leaves all the phenomena of moral existence un- 
accounted for; and its very partiality bewrays its folly. 
The training of the intellect to the neglect of the heart, is, 
as all experience proves, no royal road to either virtue, or 
happiness ; serving neither the present nor the future weal 
of man. It sheds but a stronger light on the yawning gulf 
Dvithin him, rendering the darkness that surroimds him more 



108 UNBELIEF. 

palpable, and awful. It corrects no mischiefs in the spirit, 
it alters no one feature of human apostasy, nor breaks man's 
relation to a penal future. As tlie first, and all destroying 
sin, was begotten equally of the intellect and the desire ; so 
is its type perpetuated in every variety of its dreadful pro- 
geny. The pathway to perdition opens through the intel- 
lect, as well as through the vices of the flesh ; but the 
visage of the arch-fiend is alone reflected from the former, 
and his deadliest inspiration is wafted from the master-spirits 
of an age, through the world. To speak through genius, 
erudition, and science, is the climax of Satanic wile; and 
to poison hnoivledge in its fountains is to drug whole com- 
munities with fatal success. 

Perverted intellect, ever in alliance with the vices of the 
heart, casts over them all a shield, which blunts every wea- 
pon of truth, and imparts to impiety an air of assurance, and 
stoical resolve. Its breath is vanity, even when it does not 
generate corruption. Its inspiration is pride, — a pervei^e, 
disputatious subtilty, — masking its hatred to truth under a 
pretended regard to freedom of inquiry, and its secret con- 
tempt for all religion under a liberal arbitration between 
the claims of contending sects. Availing themselves of the 
divided and diversified aspects of Christendom, the adver- 
saries insinuate, that faith is simply a matter of opinion, a 
circumstance, or an accident of existence, involving just as 
little interest as accountability ; while devotion and morals 
are represented as anterior principles of the soul, and there- 
fore independent of all religious systems and professions, 
whether Scriptural or otherwise. In fine, the drift of lite- 
Y^ry labour and press-agency at present, is expressive of an 
aim to secure a complete ascendency over the public mind, 
to the depression, if not exclusion, of religious rule, in this, 
as in every other department of human influence and interest. 
Its tendency, — though not often avowed, perhaps not always 
designed, — is to fence ofi", not a mere province to itself, 
but the whole mental empire of the age : and to leave re- 



ITS SPURIOUS LIBERALITY, 109 

ligion to decline and perish by the withdraA\Tiient from it 
of all the mental energies and sympathies of nations. It 
offers no worship, — it sheds no honour upon religion, as the 
one science of God and man. It yields no aid to Christian 
truth. It has no sympathy with it. It rears for it no out- 
works of defence, and certainly brings no glory into the 
Holy City. Its heartless neutrality is as criminal, and per- 
haps more injui'ious, than its most determined onslaughts, 
whether directed against the principles of Christianity, or 
the characters and enterprises of its disciples. Their con- 
scientious adherence to the Bible, as the arbiter of State 
questions, and national morals, is the severest reproof of its 
latitudinarianism ; and their practical, well-sustained philan- 
thropy, the heaviest condemnation of its inherent sel- 
fishness. 

Further, it may be added, that an age of expansion, big 
T;\dth excitement and change, is hardly one conditionally re- 
ceptive, or strongly retentive of religious power. It is too 
generally kept in motion; or too absorbent of extraneous 
element, to be deeply charged with one cmly. Like the 
Athenians, it is engrossed with "hearing, or telling some 
new thing" — with adding some fresh statue to its temple 
of fame, or the niches of its Pantheon. Ingenuity and talent 
are taxed to perpetuate a series of attractions ; while, the 
more complicated is the mechanism of life, the more is it 
liable to exhaustion. Crowded scenes, and reiterated im- 
pressions, as rapidly efface, as they succeed each other ; they 
are too many to be severally retained, — too rapid to convey 
each its perfect individuality. The man must drop much 
on his way that he takes up in the beginning, or he would 
be overborne by his load ; and too often, childhke, he drops 
the precious, and retains the vile. 

To impregnate man religiously, amidst all this tumult of 
vicissitude, becomes the prime difiBculty. He is as a man 
in a crowd, only seen at intervals, and impacted, where in- 
dividuality is as little appreciated, as hberty is enjoyed. 



no NATIONAL INFLUENCES. 

Religion becomes but one item in life's long inventory : it 
offers no novelty, it parades no bribes, often no circumstantial 
commendations. Its Sabbaths, sanctuaries, ministers, peo- 
ple, doctrines, symbols, are institutional things ; recognised 
elements and forms of national being — nothing more. He 
can see them, as he sees other things, but without appre- 
hending their unseen correspondences. Impelled by the 
tastes, or urgencies of his life, he fulfils his routine of citizen- 
ship, of merchandise, or of professional engagement; he 
alternates between his family, his business, and his recrea- 
tions; but he passes by religion, which, perhaps, instru- 
mentally, has never reached him ; or his early induction 
into its paths has been forgotten, like his cradle, or, his 
leading-strings. An intermediate haze, and crowd of 
worldly things, have severed him from them, and beguiled 
and besotted him, till time has led him to the brink of the 
grave. 

But, of all the causes operative to modify the forms, and 
to leaven the spirit of society, politics have, of late years, 
been the most predominant. All classes have been moulded 
by the action of great contending principles and parties in 
the state. The influence of these debates and struggles, 
upon the middle and lower orders, has been immense. 
Their power has been vastly augmented in swaying the des- 
tinies of the covmtry, and in re-fashioning the whole economy 
of the state. The general result of these movements is, to 
bring the governors and governed into fuller correspondence, 
and greatly to reduce the distance and the inequality be- 
tween them. The creation of a popular, political, spirit in 
the countiy, has given vigour to every form of social expres- 
sion ; with a proportionate degree of individual, as well as 
of class, importance. How far the interests of religion, as 
a whole, may have been advanced or repressed by this strong, 
and in some respects new, element of social life, it may not 
be easy correctly to determine. It has undoubtedly fostered 
a spirit of independence, favourable to freedom of inquiry. 



POLITICAL INTENSITY. Ill 

and impartiality of decision. A fully emancipated citizen 
would be prompt to exercise his rights in the choice of his 
relio'ion, as well as in the conduct of his secular interests. 
He would become more accessible to argument; less pre- 
judiced and prescriptive in his notions ; less rigid in his ad- 
herence to old institutions ; less venerative and submissive ; 
more inclined to discard what was patronized, and to adopt 
what might appear simply right, or useful in religion; 
though not imposing, but even persecuted. To break down 
caste in spirituals, as in temporals, is the plain result of popu- 
lar freedom and of social fusion. So far, religion seems to 
have gained by these changes : but it is more doubtful how 
far the benefit has been realized ; or whether it has not been 
neutralized, and even counterbalanced, by the combination 
of other influences. Whether religion, in the abstract, has 
not been lowered as a human interest, by the uplifting of 
merely worldly objects to a disproportionate magnitude and 
elevation ; by a ceaseless and violent play of the strongest 
passions of our nature, either to destroy, or to defend ; by 
the jealousies it has aroused against eveiy thing dogmatic, 
even m religion, and against then- character, whose office it 
is to support and propagate it. It may be feared, that by 
the operation of these principles, religion has been shorn of 
much of its sanctity and power. It has suffered from the 
suspicion that has attached to its advocates, tending to clip 
office so closely, as to destroy its "superscription," and 
mutilate its " image ;'' and inducing, in the mind of the popu- 
lace at least, a preference for the pretended political regene- 
rator over the minister of religion ; teaching it to regard the 
one as the friend — the other as an enemy — ^to the onward 
movement of the race. The lees of this cup, which, drunk 
off by the nation, produced an inebriation from which it has 
scarcely recovered, have intoxicated the populace to frenzy. 
They feel but one woe, and clamour for one remedy. Their 
jubilee is the Charter, not the Gospel. 
Whenever the lot of the artisan is one of privation and 



1 12 NATIONAL INFLUENCES. 

suffering, a ground is supplied, both for political disaffection, 
and infidel obduracy. Religion and society, as they exist 
mutually entwined, are viewed as but two faces of one 
tyranny, whose downfall must usher in the grand era of 
liberty and public weal. The heavy hardships entailed on 
the working classes, cannot but be greatly deteriorative of 
their spirit and character, of their respect for station, 
of their cordial acquiescence in existing social organization, 
and of their sympathy with what is national. Their 
patriotism and loyalty are overborne. Sullen, and discon- 
tented, they become the easy dupes of political fanatics, and 
atheistic levellers, under the amiable appellation of Social- 
ists. Every political change, every turn of events, is watched 
by them with a morbid interest, as big with the promise of 
amelioration. They feel warranted by the evils they endure, 
to abet measures reckless in change and subversion, as cul- 
prits are to adopt any schemes for effecting their escape 
from the clutches of the law. The sense of injury, the 
sting inflicted by a WTong, — whether in individuals, or in 
classes of men, — is restlessly retaliative ; it waits for an op- 
portunity to transfix its victim, and is lulled into silence like 
the tempest, only to rage with more destructive force. Re- 
cent events have tested the presence of this feeling in the 
popular mind to an alarming degree ; nor has the expres- 
sion of it, in the sudden catastrophe of a revolution, been 
repressed, but by the demonstration of a moral and an 
armed force, rendering the project hopeless. The apathy, 
if not hostility, of the masses towards religion, is but too 
sure an inference from these events. The unwelcome con- 
viction cannot be repelled, that their minds are too fully en- 
grossed with a political salvation, to desire a spiritual one ; 
that they too resolutely overlook the moral disorders found 
in connexion with temporal evils, to discern the true remedy 
for them; and that, until this favourite experiment shall 
have been made, and proved abortive, all appeals to con- 
science and religion will be regarded but as the babblings 



CUURCH REQUISITES. 113 

of ignorance, in support of a falling cause ; or the artifices 
of hypocrisy, to divert them from the pursuit of their dearest 
rights.* 



CHAPTER VI. 
CHURCH REQUISITES. 

'* Who is she that looketh forth as the morning?" — Canticles. 

But if the aspects of society on the Church be especially 
characteristic, and, as such, deserving of great consideration ; 
those of the Church on the Avorld are of still higher moment. 
The contemplation of powers in immediate connexion with, 
and destined to act upon, each other, is profoundly stirring, 
when the causes and issues of their opposition involve the 
chief interests of mankind. Nor is the consideration of one 
opponent force of practical value, but as it casts us upon 
computing the other, and the probabilities, that hence arise, 
as to the side on which victoiy will come forth. In this 
case, the Chmxh is the sole and proper antagonist to the 
world. It is empire arrayed against empire. It is God's 
power brought out under conditions suitable to a human 
medium, and for human issues, against the representative, 
and the instnunents of moral evil. The world, the whole 
world, is capable of a grand transition from the one do- 
minion to the other, because it is the subject of Christ's re- 
demption. Hence the power which God leagues with his 
Church, is not one which, ranging on this wide basis, cannot 
but act ; nor is that opposed to it, put forth to accomplish 
ends which could not have been prevented. Both act upon 
what may be termed iho, principle of contingency ; and upon 
this ground, both forces have room to expand themselves. 

* [IMost strikingly do these paragraphs show, whether the au- 
thor intended it or not, how fearful an obstacle to the progress of 
religion a false Social System may be. — Air. Ed.] 



114 CHURCH REQUISITES, 

Hence the adaptation of the Church to its great work, in 
any particular age, or country, is of vital importance to the 
prospects of religion ; as it respects both its spread and its 
perpetuation. Then, the question how far it is answerable 
to its primitive model, or has declined from it, if fairly^et- 
tled, (though it should not warrant the utterance of a pro- 
phecy as to the complexion of a remote future,) would, at 
least, serve to explain existing facts, and perhaps enable us 
to read the prognostics of approaching times. 

To begin with the theology of the Church. As this is 
its foundation, it seems most pertinent to the inquu-y now 
proposed. With respect to this most important subject it 
may be inquired, how nearly the great subjects of Chris- 
tian belief are held, at this day, in the churches of our land, 
apart from those questions in doctrine w^hich may fairly be 
deemed secondary, or controvertible ? And if, in general, 
these great leading articles be maintained, how far they 
actually rule the minds of professing men, or even the 
public expositors of these divine mysteries ? 

Orthodoxy is, indeed, less necessarily vital and productive 
of its proper ends than error, because the latter is always 
enforced by, as it speaks to, the corruptions of our nature ; 
whereas the former may be wholly repressed, by the very 
causes which impart to error a triumphant ascendency. 
Truth may be practically negatived, by the coldness and 
alienation of the heart, though admitted as an intellectual 
visitant, entire and resplendent, as the Bible itself. The 
state of human nature, as fallen, shows that truth cannot 
be necessarily sanctifying ; while the experiment continu- 
ally going on, in so many minds of different capabilities, 
tastes, and complexions, with a result so disappointing and 
portentous, proves both the necessity of a Divine influence 
to assist and rectify the mind, and also its power to resist, 
as well as to yield to, this influence. Thus, orthodoxy does 
by no means imply religion in its possessor. It may stand 
alone in his mind, and in reproving contrast with his heart 



THE QUALITY OF ITS TEACHINGS. 



115 



and practice. For the same reason, it may be set on high 
in individuals, and in churches, without any corresponding 
degree of religious energy. The general tone of piety may 
be feeble, and utterly insufficient for pubhc effect ; while the 
doctrinal staple of the times may be tolerably pure. The 
truth is not, indeed, held "in unrighteousness," but re- 
strained, by various causes, from carrying on its w^ork to the 
uttermost. Its maximum is not realized, its action is not 
vigorous, its omnipotence is far from being demonstrated 
in keeping with its history, or as the Church desires, and 
as the world needs. Though free and unassailed, without 
bonds, or adversaries, rising up to challenge its authority, 
or suppress its publication, its domain is restricted as if geo- 
graphically defined ; and as doubtfully held, as if its tenure 
was contingent as that of mere human opinion. They who 
are engaged to uphold and circulate the truth, seem unable 
to arouse the slumbering masses around them, or to pro- 
voke a contest with the adversaries, w^ho wave it through dis- 
dain, or even sheer indifference. It w^ould seem that truth's 
destiny, in such a world as ours, is first persecution, and 
then neglect ; and that she must oscillate continually be- 
tween these two extremes of human impiety. Indifference, 
however, not hostility, is the dreaded foe of truth. In an 
element purely neutral, truth cannot act ; to be successful, 
it must evoke interest — stimulate by provocation, or 
subdue by conviction. It must agitate strongly, or the 
mental condition is wanting for its entrance and victory. 
What, in fact, does the history of its birth and early pro- 
gress testify on this point ? Were they noiseless times, and 
unimpassioned spirits, that ushered it into life, cradling 
it for conquest and for empire? Or can we conceive it 
possible, that its chronicled achievements could have been 
accomplished, and its monuments of conquest, remaining 
to this day in almost every land, have been reared, 
had not the world been roused as by the successive 
shocks of an earthquake, and men been subjected to 



116 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

the strongest impulses of their nature, for and against its 
progress ? 

This observation is remarkably borne out by the records 
of the Reformation, and of every subsequent revival of i:eli- 
gion. Each of these grand movements necessarily created 
new and strong modes of pubhc feeling ; demanding these 
as the conditions of progress and triumph. They were like 
the breaking up of ice-bound seas, and frozen regions, by 
the power of the returning sim ; or, as the motion of the 
living principle, everywhere bursting into beauty and per- 
fection under the wand of Spring. They were like Christ's 
appearance in the land of the Jews— casting out devils, 
and raising the dead. In every such instance, the dark 
reign of sin is invaded ; and Satan deposed, when his 
goods are in peace. Then truth appears omnipotent, in 
the mighty works which it effects ; and divinely beautiful, 
in contrast with the dismal superstitions, and impious 
dotages, then forsaken. It is, indeed, ''marvellous light,'^ 
which has suddenly flashed upon this inveterate and in- 
fernal darkness. Men gaze upon this scene of wonders 
with astonishment ; they are enchanted by the spell of this 
stupendous revelation. They conceive strongly of every 
gospel truth, as opposed to some damning error — some 
soul-enslaving ordinance — some onerous imposition of men. 
A human religion is now put down by the glory of a 
divine one ; and they who are so happily enlightened by 
it, think, feel, resolve, and act up to the very pitch of 
their powers. They are, indeed, ''new creatures.'' The 
force of discovery, combined with hard struggling for the 
experimental knowledge of the truth, and after sufferings 
for its sake, gives a mighty impulse to every outset of a 
genuine revival. 

Christianity always begins her career of conquest with a 
full outlet of her resources in her chosen servants. In this 
respect, nothing comes thus direct from heaven as a " good 
gift," but it is "pei-fect" also; whatever degeneracy may 



THEOLOGY ITS MORAL INSPIRATION. Il7 

be entailed upon it afterwards by human unfaithfulness to 
so high a trust. Powerful mental awakenings, sore conflicts 
with evil, the working of Satan and the good Spirit, in 
vehement contrariety, in the same breast, with the issue of 
a heaven -born emancipation, — mighty as a translation from 
hell to heaven, — cannot but impress the full image of 
Divinity upon the truth that originated it. There has 
descended the moral inspiration of truth — not merely her 
intellectual form ; *' the light of life" — not simply that 
which heralds life, but which begets it ; afterwards expand- 
ing and perfecting it, as it forms the shrine in which it 
clothes itself, and thence breaks foi-th in glory and beaut}^ 
Hence, a fervid evangelism is ever embodied in the first 
impulses of spiritual life. Men not merely throw off the 
incubus of tradition and superstition, or repudiate the 
worthless and foolish customs vfhich have superseded the 
*' reasonable service " of the Christian faith ; they do not 
merely adopt creeds, or draw up protests and confessions, de- 
claratory of a mental independence, and to uphold a right of 
which they have long been deprived; they enthrone the 
TRUTH AS DIVINE ; they love her because she is the image 
of Chiist, and the vehicle of salvation. It is a supernatural, 
not a human ardour which enflames them. It is not the 
assurance of reason, but the testimony of God vrithin them, 
that kindles the enthusiasm of beheving souls, and con- 
verts them into witnesses, such as were the apostles, "to 
the uttermost parts of the earth." 

. It is the office of the Holy Spirit to give a strong working 
theology to the world. It depends far less on human teach- 
ing and research, than on his inspiration, perpetuated in the 
Church, as "the Sphit of truth" — an appellation certamly 
not bounded by his primary office in the apostles, but in- 
cluding his deep, vital action upon the soul, in connexion 
with the study of the Sacred Oracles, his silent, mighty, 
breathings within the breast, infusing truth, and clearing 
away the blmdness, perverseness, death, which sin has cast 



118 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

"upon it. His unction is that in wliicli all the grace, power, 
and Ufe of truth consist ; the very substance and soul of all 
revelations from heaven. This reception of truth, renders 
a man a living representative of its divinity, and a powerful 
instrument for its diffusion. His use of truth is nothing ^o- 
fessional ; its effects in him amount to something far higher 
than a simple modification of religious belief, or of moral 
character. It is a regenerative power, which becomes end- 
lessly reproductive. The " children of the hght'* are spoken 
of in Scripture, as a race created by the truth, whose fairest 
type is seen in the day ; and therefore diffusive as well as 
assimilative. As it is the truth which the Holy Spirit im- 
plants in man, as the vehicle and type of his higher life, so 
is its perfect impression necessary to the dominion of religion 
in the Church, and, through the Chmxh, in the world. The 
Church must be strongly moved, to ponder, and to publish 
it ; the world, to hearken to, and believe it. Faint ideas are 
powerless ; they convey no influence, and compel no energy. 
The Gospel cannot sink down to the level of common 
topics, or human sciences, without a vast degeneracy of 
feeling in the Church ; and without entailing upon itself a 
weakness, and a circumscription, dismally ominous. Who 
would set the earth higher than the heavens, or compare the 
works of God with the productions of men ? — the truth that 
saves, with the inventions which, indeed, embellish life, but 
leave untouched the moral plague of our race ? — or which, 
developing man's earthly powers, shut out the prospects of 
his immortality, and leave him no interests beyond the grave ? 
The Gospel, as its name imports, stands alone, in sublime 
and awful interest, as an authenticated revelation from God ; 
while, as conveying to man His will, it demands a truce to 
the multitude of contending claimants for human regard ; a 
silence among men, when its roll is opened, such as obtains 
among angels themselves, when the great book of destiny is 
loosed in heaven. It demands, by its dignity and importance, 
a class of emotions altogether peculiar. They who hold. 



i 



THEOLOGY ITS MORAL TRANSFORMATIONS. 119 

and they who hsten to it, are not in the ordinary positions 
of their existence. No lessons of philosophy, no questions 
of public interest, or personal admntage, can be paralleled 
with this business. This is God's embassy to the world, 
involving man's duty and destiny. Religion must stand 
alone in majesty, in rights, in sanctions. Men must come 
forth, as did Israel out of the camp, to meet with God. 
God now talks with men ; and men must hear, or perish ? 
Nor can the truth ever receive its proper homage, or pro- 
duce its proper eflfects, till this position of the parties is re- 
cognised. ■ 

This result may be difficult, but its necessity proves that 
it is not impossible ; and that such a measure of responsibi- 
lity is shared amongst those concerned, as leaves them 
guilty of damaging the one great interest of God and man 
when this state of thought and feeling is come short of. 
This danger is, moreover, more eminent in tranquil times, 
and easy circumstances, than in those of hazard and restric- 
tion. A question never debated, raises no interest ; a right 
never opposed, is all but valueless. Tnith admitted, is truth 
neglected — cheap, because common, though its value hes 
mainly in this fact. How transported were the hearts of 
men when truth da-svned first upon them, after centuries of 
darkness ! With what rapture did our ancestors welcome the 
translation of the Bible, eagerly intent on securing a copy 
for private use ; or, on reading it, when deposited, and even 
chained, in the churches ! With what heroism did they meet 
danger, and endure persecution the most bitter and deadly, 
when struggling to loose the yoke of Papal Antichrist from 
the neck of the nation, and to found again the monarchy 
of rehgion upon its own heavenly and eternal rescript of in- 
spired truth ! Or, when maintaining, in some respects, a 
more galling warfare against imcongenial forms, — the des- 
potism of the hierarchy, or the usurpations of the state, — 
all penalties were braved, in the spirit of meek, but unbend- 
ing, resolution ; and life, and all things with it, were flung 



120 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

into the scale, for truth, conscience, liberty, godliness ! Nor, 
in the last gush of Christian hfe, which has so greatly blessed 
our age, and enriched the world, do we trace anything so 
remarkable as the poiver of truth, — moulding its people to 
its own ends. Their principles, and instincts, alike flowed 
from it. It was the one idea of the intellect, and the master 
passion of the heart. They despised the mere circumstances 
of its appearance: the street, the cottage, the field, 
were, like the upper room at Jerusalem, or the mountains 
of Galilee, equally attractive, and hallow^ed as the stateliest 
shrine, by the representative of Christ — the truly anointed, 
though not always recognised — herald of the Gospel. The 
treasure was then, as in apostolic days, " in earthen vessels," 
rather than in those of silver and gold. 

Religion, then, rising as if from the tomb, — where she 
had long lain in corruption, decently, and even splendidly, 
buried, under monuments far older than her latest youth, — 
seemed more glorious in her simple, uncultured grace, than 
when more courtly ; as the Baptist, issuing from the borders 
of the wilderness, to begin his mighty mission ; or Jesus, 
from Nazareth, to illumine and redeem the world. The 
very hazards and difficulties of their position, served only to 
brace up their spirits for enterprise ; and to inspire them 
with the heroism of men, Avho stake everything upon the 
fortunes of a campaign, or the chances of a battle. They 
felt what, at this day, we coldly admit : that to retain the 
truth they must propagate it ; that they owed this debt to 
their contemporaries, as did Paul to the Greeks and barba- 
rians — the wise and the unwise ; that, whatever else was im- 
portant to the world, this was primary and essential — vital, 
saving. There was a simplicity in them, always para- 
mount ; springing from the depth of their convictions, rather 
than the lack of mental enlargement : or if, indeed, it were 
childish, in the view of the world, it was the note of a divine 
greatness ; it imparted force to character, and unity to action. 
It gathered the man up from the field of worldly distraction, 



THEOLOGY ITS LIVI^'G TYPES. 121 

and plied him fully in one great task ; agreeably to the apos- 
tolic motto, — " This one thing I do." 

In the preservation of this enthusiastic love of the truth, 
its disciples not only became its representatives, but its 
vehicles. They breathed it upon the world ; they engraved 
its name upon everything they touched; and held the 
secret of a moral alchymy more valuable, and more won- 
derful, than that of the philosopher's stone, which turned 
everything into gold. In comparing past times vrith our 
own, this pre-eminent influence of the truth, and thorough- 
going championship for its cause, appear seriously to have 
waned. The force of discovery no longer aids us; the 
transports of novelty have subsided ; the excitements of its 
primitive triumphs have passed away with the generation 
which witnessed them. We have neither broken away 
from the thraldom of superstition, nor from the icy grasp 
of a lifeless formalism. Ours is not an age of theological 
contests, nor of religious persecutions. None seem bent 
on seizing our patrimony ; or driving us, by the polemics of 
the pen, or the enactments of the state, from our articles 
and our sanctuaries. We have known no wars, — ^we hear 
no alarms. Hence, we hardly feel that we have anythmo- 
to lose. We are paralyzed by this somnolent tranquilHty ; 
and become heedless, from the monotony of our times. 
Men are not strongly committed to their principles. The 
worth of truth is but dimly seen ; nor the majesty of con- 
science, which, itself the eye and image of the truth, arbi- 
trates by no earthly rules, nor for earthly ends ; finding a 
rest in righteousness which no terrors can disturb, and no 
inferior good augment. Cognizant of God only, it holds 
to Him, as Athanasius is said to have done, against the 
world ; accounting nothing necessary but its own integrity ; 
nothing great, but God's honour ; nothing blessedness, but 
his favour, by which all the perfections of a fresh existence 
are secured, rising from the last wreck of all things, — as it 
now realizes the basis of an indestructible greatness, in its 

6 



122 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

own moral condition. On this great point of religious in- 
tegrity, the tone of our age is relaxed and feeble. While 
the world has been liberalized to indifference, or scepti- 
cism, by the twofold action of politics and philosophy ; the 
Church has been chilled by her contact with the same^ele- 
ments. She has too little regarded her perils, or pondered 
her position : she has grasped her weapons but feebly, and 
put herself forth before the world with too much diffi- 
dence. 

In an age when knowledge is disassociated, to a wide 
extent, from religion, in the persons of its chiefs, and the 
channels in which it flows through the land, a certain 
unfriendly occupancy, rather than a simply negative con- 
dition of the public mind, must be counted upon; and 
the suggestion becomes irresistible, that evangelism, to se- 
cure a chance of acceptance, must seek an alliance with 
the various departments of secular science, and become 
blended with the prevaihng style of taste and intelligence 
— but without a distinct embodiment, or a transforming 
mastery. The march of discovery, and of popularized 
science, upon the mind of the age, has drawn away, and 
detained it, from the vision of heavenly truth. It has 
cast a fictitious glare upon it, which, for the time, has ren- 
dered it insensible to the glory of revealed wisdom. Its 
effect has been almost pyrotechnic, on the mass. It seems 
to demand darkness for the display of its wonders ; such a 
fixedness and absorption of mind upon terrene objects, as 
imports the withdrawment of divine ones from the scene. 

As rivals, science and religion cannot co-exist, any more 
than planets can move, in opposite dhections, in the same 
sphere ; or the worship of the true God may consist with 
that of heroes and demi-gods, or of the images of gold, 
wood, and stone. The end of things must contain the 
reason of the irexistence ; the principle of all rule, as well 
as of their respective attributes, confessed. This, with re- 
spect to man, must imply something greater than man him- 



THEOLOGY RIVAL TEACHINGS. 123 

self ; (much more than any one of the many possible appli- 
cations of his faculties ;) and must, therefore, needs be 
sovereign over his destiny. The relative and illustrative 
aspects of science are, in this view, chiefly estimable. Its 
absolute subordination is, therefore, reasonable ; its co-ordi- 
nation with religion, absurd. 

The certain issue of this mal-position, is a perfect car- 
nival of intellectual wantonness, — the last excesses of Infi- 
delity and Atheism. The moral efiects of such an intellec- 
tual transition upon society, are as obvious as they are 
natural. The lecturer fills greater space in the public eye 
than the teacher of rehgion ; and the institutions and asso- 
ciations of politics and philosophy, absorb much of the in- 
tellectual and moral energy that should be directed to higher 
things. Little, if any, taste is shown, even for the philoso- 
phy of religion ; while the conscience, and the heart, must 
remain untouched, by that which fails to secure to itself the 
supremacy of the thoughts. Not only is its domain abridged, 
but its sceptre is broken. Its claims are not estimated by 
its evidencs, or its importance, but simply by its power to 
interest and to please ; while its business is to impress, and 
to convert, — to abase man, and to exalt God. Hence, a 
superficial culture of the intellect, or a pleasurable exercise 
of it, is made the end of human effort ; not a means to its 
moral advancement, and to conformity with the standard of 
a divine rectitude, — the only cardinal difference between a 
demon and an angel; the \ilest of mortals and the 
glorious image of Jesus Christ. 

Every demand is for invention, which is taxed to ex- 
haustion. Genius and talent are extolled as loftier gifts 
than apostolic inspiration, while evangelism and common- 
place are put in the same category. Now, it is plain, that 
the bare impression, on the public mind, that the intellect 
of the age is against, at least not with, religion, must, 
in itself, be an enormous evil, though it should be a humi- 
liating truth. Neither its sole, nor its worst consequence; 



124 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

however, is traced in the tone of the pubUc men, and the 
leading characters of the day, — who too often betray a 
loose and careless, or a cynical, or semi-infidel temper, 
when religious questions come before them. : — it is embo- 
died in the great staple portion of the community ; per- 
vading them with a deep taint of self-complacency and 
empiricism, — ^in strange contrast with the simplicity and 
veneration of former times, — qualities, which, if not safe- 
guards against the dominion of vice, are the necessary pre- 
requisites to the access of truth ; and which, if not strictly 
principles, present not the irreligious antagonisms of bad 
ones. In this respect, the Church is surrounded with diffi- 
culties formerly unknown. Its work is no longer limited 
to the simple occupancy of a vacant territory. It must 
wage war with tribes of giant errors, already fortified, and 
in possession; as did Israel of old, against the sons of 
Anak, in their fenced cities, and chariots of iron. 

In the progress of society, every form of irreligion has 
become more salient and industrious, borrowing some of 
the tactics of its warfare from the Church herself. Reli- 
gion has not merely been parodied in her doctrines, but in 
her organization and operations ; as the orang-outang and 
the ape parody man. Never, perhaps, was the Church in 
a more embarrassed position than at present, with respect to 
her relations to society. Enjoying the most perfect security 
and freedom of action, her inability to turn these advan- 
tages to her own account was never more manifest. The 
constantly augmenting masses of surrounding people, seem 
to commence their career of being, under other auspices 
than hers ; and to live and die with as little regard for her 
doctrines, institutions, and blessings, as the inhabitants of 
China feel for the government and people of England. 
The Church and society co- exist, like the land, water, 
and atmosphere of the globe, — in combination, without as- 
similation; in perpetual juxtaposition, but without trans- 
mutation. 



THEOLOGY-«-ITS GLORY AS ULTIMATE TRUTH. 125 

To meet this particular feature in the times, teaching is 
required, of more than an ordinary degree of skill and 
power. The close student, and the practical man, should 
be combined; a strong originality, and force of intellect, 
with stores of learning, should be joined with evangelic 
fervom-, and the simplicity of a child. The truth, to be set 
on high, requires a stately candlestick, and the concentra- 
tion of a body of light, to which the eyes of all turn, as by 
instinct. It requires such mastery of intelligence, such pro- 
fundity of erudition and seraphic zeal, as shall make her, 
to the vision of earth, what the ''lamps of fire" are to 
those who dwell around the throne of God. 

The grandeur of truth must be seen, or her inspiration 
cannot be felt, nor her all-compelling might, urging on in 
the path of duty; as worlds, flung into space, untiringly 
course around their respective centres, proclaiming the 
doctrine of order, as well as of power, while they move, 
and creating *' fulness of joy" within the realms of being, 
to us unseen. To this, not ideal of a ministry only, but 
craving demand of the age, the Bible itself is wonderfully 
coiTespondent. It is evidently designed to be the book of 
all times and ages, comprising every stage of human de- 
velopment, and including the sum total of all intelligence 
that ever was, is, and shall be. It immeasm'ably over- 
spreads all intellect, as the heavens do the tops of the 
mountains, and the bosoms of the valHes alike ; and sheds 
equal light and influences upon the hyssop, and the cedar — 
upon the reptile, and the man, as bemg integrals of the 
same system, and forms moulded by the same Almighty 
hand. 

As well may men imagine that they have gathered the 
last grains of gold from the earth, or the last pearl from 
the depths of the sea, as that they have exhausted that book 
which contains more than the universe, besides itself, — 
" THE UNSEARCHABLE RICHES OF Christ." The principles, 
illustrations, and applications, of any and every branch 



126^ CHURCH REQUISITES.* 

of philosophy, may, in the progress of the human mind, 
become fixed and ultimate ; but not so the Divine science 
of the Scriptures, in the study of which angels are associ- 
ated with men. This is indefinite, — it *' passeth know- 
ledge,"— and the teaching of the day should exemplify this 
wonderful fact; not lingering behind the march of other 
things, and being rigid as with age, while everything 
around it is green with youth, and expansive as life. It 
should be as the light, which awakens all nature into 
activity and power; as the sun in the heavens, which 
marshals and tinges the very clouds with gorgeous hues, 
and summons the entire domain of the firmament to form 
his retinue, to reflect his glory, and to do him homage, both 
in his orient and setting hours. 

It is the absence of a vigorous, and deep-toned theology 
from the Church, and society at large, which marks our 
age as one of degeneracy, compared with those immedi- 
ately succeeding the great Reformation; when truth was 
so princely in its champions, and glorious in its sway ; not 
only rich in its provision for the living, but in legacies to 
posterity ; with the mere surplusage of its stores, replen- 
ishing centuries of the future ; and leaving to them little 
more to do than to appropriate, and to wonder at, the 
genius, industry, and erudition, comprised in these treasures 
of sacred lore. These, though so noble a heritage to us, — 
the veriest wealth of our fatherland, — supply no incense to 
the altar of our vanity ; being pregnant with evidence, that, 
with all our boasting, we are not better than our fathers, 
nor " wiser than the ancients." 

The ages which produced such works, must have been 
more divinely imbued with wisdom than our own. They 
speak for those times, as the languages and artistic relics 
of Greece and Rome speak to us of their bygone glories. 
The national mind must have been more deeply charged 
with the religious element than it has ever been since. The 
forces that so strongly moved it, must have acted far be- 



THEOLOGY ITS NATIONAL DBCLINE. 127 

neath the surface ; or these mountains could not have been 
cast up, in height and figure, so massive and commanding. 
This change in the rehgious bias of the nation, renders its 
Protestantism as insecure as its evangelization is hindered 
by it. The link that should have bound it to the early 
ages of its spiritual emancipation, is attenuated, if not dis- 
solved. It is cold, if not reproachful in its temper, towards 
its most illustrious benefactors. It has no fixed principles 
of religion to give it unity with the past, or guidance 
through the future. It wears no deep lineaments of an- 
cestral traduction. It cherishes no sympathies toward the 
one great thing, on which our fathers hung the whole 
sphere of the state, and from which they drew the very 
hfe-blood of the polity. 

The great want of our day is the re-instalment of truth 
in her olden supremacy. Instead of exercising our wits 
profanely, in contriving from what she may be excluded, 
and by what means her influence may be curtailed ; it 
should rather be consulted, how speedy and perfect a resto- 
ration of her abased prerogatives may be yielded her. 
Hitherto, our religious revival has failed to bear her up to 
this position. It has partaken of much of the utilitarian 
character of our times. It has grown to no palmy height, 
nor covered the land with its shadow ; though its fruit has 
been both abundant and precious. It does not seem to 
have been born for longevity, by drawing to, and incorpo- 
rating with itself, the whole soul of the nation. It wants 
the apostohc admeasurement of '* length, and depth, and 
breadth, and height," — the thorough indoctrination, (which 
our northern neighbours have kept up,) of a whole kingdom 
in orthodoxy, — which so strongly holds a nation to its prin- 
ciples, though its spiritual life may greatly fluctuate ; and 
supplies the preliminaries of appeal to men of every grade, 
as a deposit of truth, instead of a carte hlanche for dispu- 
tation on first principles. It provides an open way of re- 
turn to piety, when it has been forsaken. It raises an equal 



128 . . CHURCH REQUISITES. 

rampart against infidelity and superstition. It gives autho- 
rity and venerableness to the Christian ministry ; and syste- 
matically upholds religious influence in society, confining 
all human sciences and conventional principles within their 
own proper courses. 

We have witnessed the rise an reign of mechanic and 
scientific truth. Genius and philosophy have blended their 
glories. To the varieties of artistic skill, have been added 
all the delicate and beautiful creations of fancy and imagi- 
nation. Political speculation hasjbeen pushed to the utter- 
most, and issued in a series of bold experiments. Social 
power, multifariously combined, and perseveringly applied, 
has given a fresh impetus to the onward movement of the 
world, and added new provinces to the empire of man. 
The patronage of all human interests, and the sceptre of 
society, have been handed over to these earth-born genii ; 
which nevertheless, like idols, are no gods. This eminency 
over the world is ever usurped, if held by any power but 
the Truth, which alone, as the law of Christ, the glory of 
God, and the light of the world, is the Supreme Liege, by 
unalienable prerogative, demanding the heart and homage 
of universal man. 

The second desideratum in the religion of the age, is a 
UNITED AND CATHOLIC ASPECT OF THE CHURCH, equally re- 
mote from the domination of one party, and the factions of 
the many. A more profound and steady view of New- 
Testament principles is required, with less of the selfishness 
which never fails to generate bigotry, and to promote party 
interests, at the expense of the general good. In propor- 
tion as it multiplies centres of attractive force, its repulsive 
efficacy represents the aggregate result of this pernicious 
combination. The fair and faultless image of catholic 
Christianity, is diversely caricatured by each of these party 
copyists ; who, in their exclusive regard to one feature, 
hmb, or member of the body, lose sight of the heavenly 
symmetry of the whole, and are in danger of deifying an 



SECTARIAN ANOMALIES. 129 

image of the fancy, and of demanding homage for an idol, 
instead of setting forth the full likeness of the Sa^dour. 

When doubtful disputations prevail, in the place of 
broad, evangelical verities, and opinions are made the tests 
of orthodoxy, and the laws of fellowship, men learn to 
break, without remorse, the apostolic rule, — to " receive one 
another," as Jesus Christ has received them, to the glory 
of his Father. Mutual jealousies and proscriptions follow, 
and a Popish infallibility, with all its train of mischiefs, is 
the Antichrist enthroned within every section of the Church. 
The Protestant basis of the Church, the sole rule of faith 
and living, — the Bible, and the Bible only, — is super- 
seded by traditionary dogmas, by priestly assumptions, by 
the prejudices of education, of caste, and various other so- 
cial accidents. An ecclesiastical regime is magnified as of 
apostolic origin; the fable of ministerial pedigree, and of 
sacramental virtue, as bound up with it, are the substitutes 
for the " one faith" which saves. Or else differences of theo- 
logical findings in the record, consistent nevertheless with 
soundness in fundamentals ; or views of the ordinances, 
or of modes of public worship, or of Church discipline and 
order, or of the state, or anti-state relations of the Church ; — 
such matters of opinion, whether more or less important 
of themselves, or approximate to truth, are made to traverse 
the great gospel rules by which discipleship itself is cre- 
ated ; and which comprise all the ordinances of practical 
perfection, as well as of spiritual life. Thus Christians de- 
fraud themselves of their birthright and blessing toge- 
ther. '' The unity of the Spirit" is broken ; the ''new 
commandment" dishonoured; the grand badge of Chris- 
tianity, before the eyes of the world, obliterated. Re- 
ligion is degraded into a mode of profession — a rallying 
point for the passions — the watchword of a party. It is 
encumbered with a load of unnatural appendages, or dis- 
figured with technical distinctions. The authority of its 

testimony is weakened, and the evidence of its divinity 

6* 



130 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

obscured, by this haze of human passions. No interest is 
felt in the affairs of other communities. The middle wall 
is reared so high, that all which it encloses is rendered in- 
visible and alien, if not hated. The fear of encroach- 
ments, and the enthusiasm of rivalry, are the chief impel- 
lents to activity ; and more alarm is felt lest a name should 
wane, or a sect expire, than lest Christ's whole interest in 
the world should be in jeopardy. 

Religion, in our day, needs a more compact front, — a 
more spiritual character, and unfettered action upon so- 
ciety. If the integrity of the various denominations which 
share the religion of our country, be a necessaiy provision 
for its maintenance and spread, it must not be forgotten, 
that ** the unity of the Spirit' ' is of antecedent obligation 
to every economy simply human, however useful. There 
is, at least, a grand apostolic federalism, running on through 
all ages and all countries, where Christianity has gained a 
footing, which is of the very essence of its church economy, 
and inseparable from the dispensation of *' all spiritual 
blessings, in heavenly places in Christ."^ This oneness 
with which it started in its career of evangelization, this 
inspired protest against the monopolizing spirit of Judaism, 
it repeats wherever it comes. It knows " no man after the 
flesh;" that is, after the distinctions suggested by our 
earthly nature, which ever war against the holy rules of 
heaven, in sacred things. The " man in Christ" is the 
only object of evangelical recognition and glorying. Its 
ordinances are all given with a view to his birth, growth, 
and perfection. This is the basis of its doctrine of union, 
and of all its provisions for bringing peace to the Church, 
and salvation to the world. 

The grand spectacle to be offered to the world of un- 
believing men, is that of " one faith," held by multi- 

^ A precious section of the temple of truth, which, as rescued 
from the Vandalism of religious factions, has been gloriously ex- 
hibited by the Evangelical Alliance. 



SCRIPTURAL FEDERALISM. 131 

tudes, having no other bond of affinity ; but exhibitmg 
every possible characteristic diflference besides. It is truth, 
recognised and adored as the heavenly gift, — not by pre- 
scription or force, but by the consent of minds perfectly free, 
— and discreetly exercising reason, by the rules pertinent 
to conviction, — minds, also, evincing the strength of their 
persuasion, by refusing to put any things besides fundamen- 
tals, even though true, into co-ordination with them, be- 
cause of their lesser value, as well as of their lesser evi- 
dence ; minds too loving to be selfish ; too much trained 
to high and ample vision to be microscopically fault-finding ; 
too wise to be duped into the belief that " the truth, the 
whole truth, and nothing but the truth," is as appropriate 
an inscription for the portal of a church, as it is as a form 
of juridical imposition ; or that, "svithin its own shrine and 
temple, all the precious things of redemption are lodged, 
and refuse only possessed by every other. 

Churches with their respective peculiarities, may co- 
exist in the same country, on the common foundation of 
the l^ew Testament ; just as, in difierent countries, they 
maintain a separate and independent existence : but their 
federalism must be tinbroken, their charity regnant, and 
their beha^dour to each other must imply much more than 
mere tolerance. 'No one-sided demand of concession must 
be arrogated ; no claims set up which cannot be admitted 
without inflicting a painful consciousness of humiliation. 
If " the unity of the Spirit" be kept, it must be within 
''the bond of peace." War of words and deeds must 
cease ; and the supercilious temper be abandoned, which, 
under the kindly appellation of brother, is so officious in 
pulling out the mote from his eye, careless how far it may 
give pain, or wound so delicate an organ, rather than restore 
to it the power of perfect vision. Such hypocrisy must 
hear the Master's rebuke, — "Behold a beam is in thine 
own eye !" 

The self-scrutiny, so peremptorily required by the Lord 



isa 



CHURCH REQUISITES. 



himself, as the only cure for a censoriously reforming 
temper, in respect to a brother, is equally applicable to the 
conduct of RELIGIOUS COMMUNITIES towards each other. 
Mutual correction is one of the most precious offices of love 
— the surest test of the existence of a real brotherhood. 
It is fraternal love only, which can undertake so dehcate a 
task ; and it is the same spirit, which, reciprocating good- 
will, will open and subject so delicate an organ as the eye 
to be handled by another. To give sound vision to the 
Church, the action must be mutual^ and alternate. The 
light must be carried into each other's communities. Can- 
dour must be separated from rudeness, and censure from 
asperity. Examinations must be conducted with no view 
to exposure ; and weakness revealed, 'svithout fear of party 
triumph. 

Religious difference, or even eccentricities, may be left 
to the action of a cathohc love ; as glaciers, which defy any 
other power, than the sun of the advancing year, to dis- 
solve them ; or as the rugged peaks, which scorn the 
power of man, but overhang many a fruitful glen, and 
furnish many a river-head, which scatters the wealth of 
commerce and the field, over districts thickly peopled. 
Unity we need ; uniformity we do not need. In a free 
country, like England, densely populated, variously classi- 
fied, with mind variously conditioned, and tastes as various 
as pursuits, one form of religion only could not obtain ; 
one only could not suffice. Nature's own unity goes out in 
diversity ; nor ought religion to be ridiculed, and con- 
temned, save by fools, for the same tendencies. Let this 
identity be at once owned, and heartily seconded ; leaving 
it to time, to the progress of society, and, above all, to the 
increase of piety, to modify its action, or to correct its 
excesses : but, let no party frown it away. 

The free, but irregular, action of the EngHsh mind, has 
reared the noblest fabric of constitutional government, of 
laws and jurisprudence, of social elevation and national 



UNITY — NOT CONFORMITY. 133 

greatness, the world has ever seen ; and, it would be 
strangely anomalous, if its religious freedom, in its results, 
could be disparaging to its secular achievements. It is 
ovoc fault, religiously, if our distinctions effectuate separa- 
tions, and our independence breed animosities ; if we set 
our opinions, and our faith, in opposition to each other ; 
if we make our differences greater than our agreements — 
our churches to annul our brotherhood — or our sects of 
more importance than our Christianity itself. Revealed 
rehgion must demand, as it includes, the exhibition of 
truly catholic principles, and a catholic spirit in its pro- 
fessors. This Ues at the very root of all healthy and per- 
manent reaction in the religion of the country, as distin- 
guished from what is merely local and sectional. If the 
Church ever forsake one great cardinal truth, in her vicissi- 
tudes through time, its absence will make itself felt, in de- 
rangement, feebleness, and decay ; just as if some one ele- 
ment in nature were subtracted or inert. No party church 
is catholic in principle ; or can become so, in absolute terri- 
torial possession. Its star (whatever it may be in local 
lustre) is not that of " the morning ;" and it will certainly 
have disappeared, long before the sunrise of millennial 
Christianity over the world. 

Efficient Christianity implies, also, the prevalence of 
an AGGRESSIVE spirit in the Church — to which, in fact, the 
Church owes its origin — as it is of the very essence of apos- 
tolical Christianity, and the creative power of every subse- 
quent epoch of its prosperity. All experience, and the 
reason of the case, prove, that nothing but zeal can act 
upon the world. Nor is it without designed emphasis, on 
this point, that prophecy itself, represents the final subjuga- 
tion of the world to Christ, as the most signal triumph of 
omnipotent love : " The zeal of the Lord of hosts shall 
perform this." What the Divine zeal is, we learn from the 
history of the God- Man, who is both the Fountain and the 
Model of it, to His people. In Him, we clearly discern the 



134 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

perfect presence of one object, and the perfect consecration 
of life, with every iota of its influence, to its prosecution 
and attainment. In Him it was — though infinitely more 
glorious — the single eye, which He so exalts as the very 
soul of discipleship ; and which made His whole nature and 
career, in His human capacity, so " full of light." His worJc 
could not be earthly, whose mind was in opposition to 
every character of mere manhood. His aim was beyond 
and above everything that human eye can admeasure, or 
human reason entertain ; whose whole being was so strangely 
singular, as to set Him in isolation from all his fellows, — 
moved when they were indifferent ; untouched by the whole 
sphere of their activities and sympathies ; sad, even to 
weeping, when they were most exultant ; rent by agony, 
and bathed in sweat of blood, when even his disciples were 
locked in peaceful slumbers, — " Who, for the joy set before 
Him, endured the cross, despising the shame," says an apos- 
tle. These were means to the end, and the expressions of 
its value. The Lord's joy is his work, — the joy of salva- 
tion, — the joy which expounded His zeal, combined every 
power of His nature, and ruled the whole course of His 
action and passion. 

But all thus done, was elementary and 'provisional only. 
Justice was propitiated, the Spirit given, and the foun- 
dations were laid of a new dominion over men ; as " the 
beams of His chambers in the waters," not to *' be removed 
forever." These ordinances were to go forth, potent as 
those of creation ; and new men were to be called into being, 
to speak them through the w^orld, and to register them on 
the face of society, as the fiats of omnipotent love. Hence- 
forth, man could bear but one aspect to his fellow, thus il- 
lumined and sanctified by grace. All his physical and mun- 
dane relations gave place to views of his religious condition 
— ^hopeful, because he is redeemed ; in danger extreme, be- 
cause he is depraved. The atonement, interlaying all his 
relations to the Deity, and itself the moral ground of human 



ZEAL — THE TRUE REFLEXION OF CHRIST. 135 

existence, renders universal personal recovery an ascertained 
possibility. It forms the ground of appeal to men in general, 
and of church extension throughout all nations. These pro- 
ceed on the assumption, that the amnesty, or reconciliation, 
of the cross, includes every man ; and that all its related 
and consummatory, but conditional blessings, belong to him, 
though it should happen that the tidings of redemption 
never reach his ears. Hence, the duty of the Church is cor- 
relative with the work of Christ. It springs out of it ; is en- 
forced by it; and terminates in it. If Christ has claims 
upon all men, then all men have interests in Him ; and to 
declare the one, and to enforce the other, is the scope of all 
church counsel and endeavour. 

The progress of such a work demands a spiritual energy, 
and unity of effort, truly primitive ; proportioned to its sur- 
passing majesty, and the impediments to its consummation. 
In eternal opposition to the course of the world, it possesses 
no auxiliaries in it, as it holds no purchase on the wide-spread 
masses of fallen mind around it ; abundant in resources for 
its destruction, they form the very " power of darkness," 
and throne of the wicked one. ISTor does it seem possible, 
that the two great societies that embody the principles of 
good and evil should be ever neutral toward each other; 
or cease to be alternately recipient of each other's influences. 
For, be it remembered, that the same stock of humanity is 
inherent in them both. They hold not dominion in several 
worlds, nor in diverse orders of being, but are territorially and 
essentially one ; and if it be the design of heaven, in this 
ordination of their positions, to afford scope for moral action 
of extreme diversity, and to give to good a final supremacy 
over evil, it is obvious that such a result as this cannot 
come of mutual tolerance, or a sleepy truce, (were this 
pc^sible,) but from collision, in which the resources of each 
party shall be tested to the uttermost. 

This argument is verified by a view of the rehgious divi- 
sions of the world, particularly of those included in Chris- 



136 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

tendom. The cessation of a shaking and unsparing bellige- 
rency, by which these divisions were drawn around, and, in 
some instances, through kingdoms, left them substantially 
with the same relative dimensions as abide to this day, and 
which, -without the action of some new disturbing force, 
promise to remain for as many centuries to come. Their 
very neighbourhood, and long famiUarity to each other, ren- 
der them less prone to mutual aggressions ; while error, by 
this position of the parties, gains, in the same proportion as 
truth loses, by the ability of its antagonist to maintain it- 
self, and to make good its claims to popular veneration. 
The same remark holds, with respect to the influences which 
spiritual religion and formalism exert upon each other; or 
the corruptions of society upon the Church, which can only 
repel the contagion that surrounds her, by keeping up a 
brisk action at every point, and fearlessly invading the seat 
of the mischief. Here, a drawn battle is a disastrous de- 
feat ; and a refusal to return to the contest, the precursor 
of ignominious subjection to the foe. Churches are ever in 
danger of seeking repose, as did Israel, before the land was 
thoroughly subdued ; leaving, in the remnants of its hostile 
population, the roots of bitterness which sprang up to trou- 
ble them, threatening their existence, as well as depriving 
them of their sovereignty. Churches are too apt to draw 
their respective boundaries, and imagine these to be, what 
the British Islands once were to the Romans, the Ultima 
Thule. They are too sensible of difficulties, too Uttle buoy- 
ant in their temper, and of too little faith. If their exist- 
ence, or their liberties, be not perilled, they are little concern- 
ed for their extension. They sink into a conservative temper ; 
trusting to their previous acquisitions, and glorying in 
their spiritual ancestry, their organization, theology, public 
status, and the shield of the commonwealth, for safety, 
rather than in the blessing of God on a faithful adherence 
to principles. 

The course of this degeneracy is marked by a greater re- 



ZEAL AN ELEMENT OF POWER. ISY 

gard toward party principles, and party objects, than toward 
the great work of rehgion, as such ; by a fastidious sensibi- 
hty to pubUc opinion, as for or against the measures it may 
adopt ; by a recoil from persecution, however mild ; by the 
adoption of merely secondary means for supporting itself 
against the current of the times, or the wastes and accidents 
of life ; by such an over-estimate of system and order as 
tends to repress, not simply to direct, exertions to their 
spiritual results ; by refraining from doing good from fear 
of an accidental evil ; and, above these, by the loss of that 
simple, all-devouring zeal, which is ever most powerful, be- 
cause most naturally adapted, to produce great effects. 

Earnestness of spirit, itself the offspring of a deep con- 
viction, and of a divine philanthropy, carries truth to the 
very eye, and persuasion to the heart ; heroically bold, and 
strong in faith ; powerful, even when engaged for error — 
how much more, when pleading for truth ? It is " the ar- 
mour of Hght," rendering the church as impervious to force, 
as triumphant over its foes ; gleaming in glory more than 
the shields of fabled demigods ; and hurling defeat on the 
legions of darkness, with the arms which His mind supplies, 
who " suffered for us in the flesh." 

The true power of the chiu"ch over the world consists in 
the possession of the mind of Christ ; which, holding the 
combination of every virtue, is governed by the wisdom of 
one idea, — that the design of an earthly life is to enlighten 
and save the world ; that this is its great warfare — its one 
business ; and that individual disciples, and churches, exist 
for the same end, — both are ministries of redemption, agen- 
cies created by the cross, and witnesses for God. This 
power is the moral character of Christ, copied out by his 
his disciples, and held up before the eyes of men, by every 
generation of his spiritual seed. It is the Gospel personi- 
fied, and faith embodied, which never fails to overcome the 
world, and to execute judgment upon its gods. 

It demands no conditions for success, extraneous to the 



138 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

soul of the Church, or that of the individual believer. It 
quails before no array of adversaries — it defies every league 
of evil. Though but as a grain of mustard-seed before the 
huge mountain, it drowns it in the sea, or grinds it into 
dust. It goes forth in the name of the Lord, single- 
handed; as David against the Phihstine, whose armour, 
sword, and spear, were of no avail against the smooth 
stones of the brook, and the sling, which, wielded by more 
than mortal hand, carried death into the champion's fore- 
head. Or, it is as Gideon, whose victory over Midian, with 
lamps, pitchers, and trumpets, — not with deadly weapons, — 
was divinely represented by the falling of a barley- cake 
into the encampment, overturning the tents as it rolled ; 
while the hand remained unseen that cast it, and armed it 
with so miraculous a force. To this power, of which man 
is the representative, and the vehicle, no counter resources 
are equivalent : it is made " perfect in weakness, '^ so far as 
its instruments are concerned ; and, on the other hand, in 
the magnitude of the forces it overthrows. It was never 
worsted in its encounters with the world. The history of 
its revelations, and the monuments of its power, attest this, 
irrefragably, and forever. It relies not on the number, nor 
the resources of its champions, for its triumphs ; but simply 
on their spirit. These, in every instance, have been few 
and select. The leading minds, in its most signal move- 
ments, have been as devoid of policy, as they were charged 
with zeal — without the least tincture of worldly providency, 
though even prophetic in the anticipations of their faith. 
They watched not for opportunities, or for a felicitous con- 
junction of circumstances, to insure effects — ^they were 
prompt to duty, and fearless of the issue. They moved 
the world, because God moved them. They were simply 
conductors of His power ; and were as lost to themselves, 
in their most glorious careers of service, as are the mightiest 
agencies in the economy of nature. 

The spirit that wrought changes so divinely beneficent in 



ZEAL — AN INDEX OF CHURCH LIFE. 139 

large portions of the \\t>rld, is strikingly set forth in the 
words of its most illustrious example — " none of us liveth 
unto himself, and none of us dieth unto himself." Further, 
it may be remarked, that the degree in which this spirit 
pervades churches, is the true index of their position and 
prospects. They must live and prosper, if their primitive 
temper be cherished, as the fire which fell from heaven. 
The house is not forsaken, if this be not extinguished ; and 
that which is "the glory in the midst," is also a wall of 
defence round about it. For this there is no substitute in 
the more auspicious circumstances of any Christian com- 
munity. These may hide its nakedness, but cannot arrest 
its decHne. The com-se of its vital current is traced in the 
rise and fall of its aggressive power : the sequel is but the 
progress of old age, decline, and death. Nor does it his- 
torically appear, that churches, when once passed the age 
of their working power, and zenith of their glory, have 
ever recalled these epochs in their prosperity ; any more 
than the seasons of life are redintegrated. They become as 
bodies when life is fled, decomposed; or, if they remain, 
it is by human art, such as the Egyptians practised, who 
embalmed their dead, but were unable to restore them to 
life. The departed spirit of religion re-appears in other 
forms, in other lands, or in another age. It rears new 
shrines for itself among other people. The Jew is abandon- 
ed, and the Gentile chosen in his stead. The centres of 
Christian life and power are transferred to other parts ; 
just as those of civilization and empire have moved from 
the East to the West. If the vessel which should have 
been unto honour, is marred ; another is formed out of the 
same general mass, more suited to display the riches of 
grace. If one instrument become broken, or blunted, by 
which Christ would carry on his work, and secure his re- 
nown, another can be tempered by Him who says, "Be- 
hold, I have created the smith that bloweth the coals, and 
I have created the waster to destroy." 



140 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

No Churches can claim irrevocable charters from heaven, 
nor individual pledges of perpetuity ; and we have read 
the Epistle to the Komans without understanding, if we 
have failed to perceive that the doctrine of election and re- 
probation, therein set forth, belongs rather to the broader 
matter of a Church covenant, than to individual salvation ; 
and, that it is intended to point out, not merely to the age 
and people immediately concerned in the argument, but to 
all generations, the principles on which a Church tenure is 
founded, and on which God himself will try all claims to it. 
The Churches of our day need a mighty reinforcement, of 
what, in the evangelical sense, may be termed, virtue — 
that beginning of strength which the firstborn inherits ; and 
without which, religion, with all its institutional mechanism, 
and normal action, droops, as if its life were all but spent, 
and it could not long maintain its old position, much less 
take one in advance. It would seem that the extent of the 
field we have entered, which is in fact the world, chiefly 
served to reveal the poverty of our resources, and (humanly 
considered) the presumption of our adventure. We are 
constantly embarrassed by a felt disproportion, in means 
and ability, with our end ; and by the fact, that our action 
has waxed feeble, as the scale of our operations has in- 
creased. This argues an artificial character in our plans 
and agencies — deceptive by their imposingness, and en- 
tertaining us with images of progress and greatness, which 
have no correspondence with fact. Our dwarfish stature, 
and gigantic undertakings, have stood in striking contrast 
with each other ; while our duties and our virtues have had 
their disparity detected, by the number of apphances found 
necessary to compel the latter into action ; the former, like 
the stone of Sisyphus, constantly rolling back upon us. 
If the law of physical proportions hold any place in the 
moral system, the fact just glanced at is in evidence, that 
the Church is greatly behind the wants of the age, and the 
business of her calling. There are wheels of great span, 



ZEAL THE SACRED FIRE. 141 

and of complex action, — there is system on a vast scale, — 
there is heard the loud rumble of its motions, and the noise 
as of an attendant host ; but there is the want of " the 
Spirit m the wheels." Mere institutions, however well con- 
ceived, and systems however worked, will never supply the 
place of individual influence in society. They do little 
more than glance over its surface, or touch it at certain 
points. They do not enter into its substance, and penetrate 
through its depths — thus realizing the striking representa- 
tion of Church influence by the Master, in the salt, which 
pervades the entire mass with its own properties. As in 
nature, forms are nothing without life, and in the human 
world, mechanism is nothing without power; so in the 
Church, systems and institutions are nothing without a 
certain spiritual force. The real power of the Church is, 
self-impellency ; the deep flowing in, and flowing out, of 
a Divine hfe, — through the channels of personal existence, 
as well as companies of men. All influences created by 
mere pressure from without — all operations compelled by 
mere excitement, are as ephemeral, as they are unnatural ; 
the spark expires with the stroke that kindled it, unless it 
alight on a substance proper to receive, and to feed its life ; 
then it will burn and expand, till it has careered over the 
world. Religion dies m like manner, unless it seize on the 
whole substance of our nature : then it spreads and towers, 
as it finds aliment in the accumulation of congenial mind, 
till the world flames like one vast altar, on which all nations 
are ofi*ered up by Christ unto His Father; else a mo- 
mentary gleam upon the world's darkness, becomes but the 
signal of its re-absorption into its source, and of abandon- 
ment, involving, perhaps, the destinies of generations, in 
the postponement of the world's jubilee. 

This is not the responsibility of chm'ches merely, — it 
belongs to individuals ; as the Church itself is but an aggre- 
gate of persons, and the representative of their characters 
and influences. The parable of the talents lays down the 



142 CHURCH REQUISITES. 

duties of individuals, not the obligations of societies. The 
negative would, in this instance, for practical ends, be as 
unsound in philosophy, as false in divinity. It is a fiction, 
under which lurks many a form of Antinomianism, and 
which many an indolent and useless professor doats upon, 
(as Eomanists do, on the merits of their saints,) and converts 
into a scape-goat, to bear away his sins. This is a spe- 
cious, and, it is to be feared, a prevailing delusion, by 
which moral individuality is lost; just as Hindooism 
teaches that the soul is finally lost by absorption into the 
Deity. The man's habit of thought and feeling becomes 
purely relative — quite ahen to all that is personal. He 
regards the Church, the system, the body to which he be- 
longs, and its action, or no-action, with alternate compla- 
cency, or censure ; without ever pondermg his personal 
responsibilities, or inquiring how large a degree of its 
success, or its failure, is due to himself. In the material 
system of our world, various elements, and manifold sub- 
stances, are wisely combined, and are made the necessary 
conditions of the several gradations of creatures : but it is 
not so in the Church. This is no combination of hetero- 
geneous substances. It admits and demands one tiling 
only, and this is life ; and nothing, in which is not found 
the breath of life — the nature of the second Adam — the 
creation of the Holy Ghost — has any lot in this inherit- 
ance. And this life is to be trained, and habituated, to its 
own proper casts of agency, just as our common natm-e is 
to its different spheres of worldly activity. The accumula- 
tion of the dead in tliis "land of the living," can only 
hinder action, and generate disease. Mere numbers are 
the array of weakness, not of strength. They are to living 
Christians, what idols are to the living God. " They have 
eyes," says the Psalmist, "but they see not; ears have 
they, but they hear not ; neither speak they through their 
throat;" and like these, though impotent to bless, they 
are not harmless in their curse. The barely negative posi- 



INDIVIDUAL DEVOTEDNESS. 143 

tion of professors, at which these remarks are chiefly aimed, 
puts an effectual check to the progress of religion in the 
world. It does not come up to even the Laodiceanism, 
which our Lord so severely reprobates. It is rather that of 
which the Church m Sardis was the type. *' I know thy 
works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead." 
By too many, the church state has been entered without 
adequate preparation, either as to learning or conviction. 
Superficial tastes, and occasional desires, have ceased in 
torpor and settled apathy. They were, in fact, in a more 
hopeful state, as they were in a more appropriate location, 
without the Church, than within it. Their chmxh status 
has administered an opiate, not a vital stimulant to their 
spirits. They are in a worse case than the man born 
bhnd, for they are bom dead — mere faded leaves — with- 
ered blossoms — fruit nipped by the wind, or eaten by the 
caterpillar. The Church does nothing for such a class of 
professors, but what God does to every disobedient man : 
it blinds their eyes, closes then* ears, and hardens their 
hearts. ''Their table," like that of reprobates, becomes 
*' a snare." The provisions of gTace serve only to nourish 
their corruptions. They are, as Israel was, polluted in 
their own gifts; and are become too familiar with the 
truths, privileges, people, and even language of reUgion, to 
come under the impressions of its divine excellency ; as 
when, for the first time, it is approached from the world. 
Even in another class than this, the great rule and end of 
discipleship, are but feebly apprehended, and too desul- 
torily pursued. Too much is left to system, and to office 
in the Church ; too much selfishness displayed in the very 
use of spiritual advantages. Duties are too commonly lost 
sight of in the conventiaHsm that issues from economic 
relations, which seem required to do what government, in 
certain countries, is expected to perform, — viz., to secure 
national prosperity, and to diffuse universal competency, 
without the diligent concurrence of its subjects. 



144 CHURCH PROVISION. 

CHAPTER VII. 

CHURCH PROVISION. 

* -' '* Even in this age, there are dark corners in this kingdom, where 
profaneness lives quietly with invincible ignorance." — ^Fuller. 

*' The vain and malignant spirit which had decried the elevated piety 
of the Puritans, sought about for some convenient form in which it 
might again come forth- to hiss at zealous Christianity ; and in another 
lucky moment fell on the term Methodist.''^ — John Foster. 

Eevival includes the adequate extension of church agen- 
cies and provisions. In our day, as perhaps always, the 
platform of religion has gone out into society far beyond 
the real domain of religion itself ; yet, on the other hand, 
it is important to note, that religion never travels beyond 
the dimensions of that platform. Often the institutional 
provisions of religion may be found almost alone ; but, 
like John the Baptist, they do a mighty work, if they 
merely " prepare the way of the Lord." If not in every 
case, hke the breaking of a shell, or the ofFcasting of an 
earher exuviae — the sign of expanding life, they are, at 
least, signals of advance, and of purposed subjugation. If 
rehgion were to be judged of chiefly by its external, and 
economic progress in our land, (though countersigns are 
not lacking,) its attitude, upon the whole, might be judged 
not a little heart-reviving. Undoubtedly, some spirit has 
gone over the land, retouching the old monuments of reli- 
gious dominion, and rearing many more. 

Material extension is as necessary to the maintenance of 
spiritual health in the Church, as it is agreeable to the na- 
ture, claims, and public designs of Christianity itself. Its 
popular sovereignty, and its ultimate nationality, flow from 
what may be appropriately termed its characteristic hu- 
manity. It is not the religion of caste, or of cultivation ; 
of state administration, civic patronage, or social accident^ : 



GENUINE ISSUE OF THE GOSPEL. 145 

it is essentially the religion of man ; and exhibits no pre- 
ferences, but such as add powerful commendation to this 
its wisdom and love. Extension is, therefore, a leading 
feature of Christianity. It must be free in action — its 
own nature is freedom — it demands what it gives. Its 
spirit was as forcibly declared as its destiny, in the me- 
morable words of the great commission : — " Go ye into all 
the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.*' It is 
impartial, because philanthropic ; it is plenary, because 
pre-eminently human. It is the sole purifier of nations : 
it is vital to the well-being of society ; nor can human com- 
bination and action ever rise to perfection, without its all- 
controlling presence. This it brings to pass by the redun- 
dancy of its own native influence, separated from all 
properties not of itself ; and by the divinity inherent in it, 
which, issuing from its own chosen channels, and functions, 
secures its social triumphs by the sublime but simple pro- 
cess of individual appropriation. In order to this, it must 
be made instrumentally effective, and organically pervading. 
It must go forth, according to the bidding which gave it 
existence and empire, to its work of teaching ; compelhng 
and converting, by all such appHances as a discreet zeal 
can devise, simple, authoritative, determined, laborious, 
spiritually and practically emulative; in constancy as in 
power, like the atmosphere, or the light. 

True evangelism is not more aMn to mysticism, than it 
is to a proud Phariseeism, or a lazy Antinomianism. It is 
human wisdom, as it is applied to the whole business of 
life ; but with an inspiration which makes it superhuman in 
its temper, tendency, and end. It does not " reap" where 
it has " not sown." It is as servant-hke as it is royal — 
equally laborious and sublime — a perfect practical philoso- 
phy. It studies how to reach men, casting its whole energy 
mto the work of converting them. Evangelism is enter- 
prise. It cannot be a mere stationary, self- conserving 
thing. It must progress, or deteriorate. Its power wanes, 

7 



146 CHURCH PROVISION. 

if limited to the circle of past occupation. Its ordinances 
and influences sensibly decline in tlieir results, wlien no 
fresh ground is taken, and no experiments are made upon 
minds hitherto beyond its sphere of operation. They be- 
come mutually exhausting : the ministry has put forth its 
strength, and the several effects of it are all but stereotyped 
in the grades of moral condition surrounding it. It has, 
perhaps, almost perfected its analysis of that particular 
portion of humanity ; and left it almost as the great Heart- 
Searcher and Judge will find it — ^the fire of whose furnace^ 
in Jerusalem, has already separated the gold from the 
dross, leaving to the last day, as distinguished from the 
present, the ofi&ce simply of declaring what now exists. 

This merely stationary, and endlessly repeated, action of 
the Church upon particular sections of society, is a serious 
bar to its success ; and it must be removed by an effort to- 
ward indefinite amplification. The circle of its operations 
must be always widening : much of its action must be ex- 
perimental ; founded not merely on a conviction of duty, 
and of conformity with apostolic, and in fact, with all primi- 
tive example ; but on a wise regard to the varieties of 
spiritual condition, through which the same masses pass, 
ere their great probation is ended ; and, to the times and 
seasons, which, though unknown in some respects to men, 
are all ordained in wisdom and mercy, to give effect to the 
plans and endeavours of the Church. 

Some grievous fault must be chargeable on the Church, 
if, after centuries of existence and public recognition, in 
any country, it has failed to bear a universal testimony for 
Christ among its people, however numerous or depraved. 
To make itself heard everywhere — as the voice of a 
herald, or crier — is the true notion of an evangehcal 
ministry ; or to sound it forth as the blasts of a trumpet, 
filling a whole region equally, and at once, which is the 
illustration of his own missionary ministry given by St. 
Paul : " From Jerusalem, round about even unto Illyricum, 



ITS UNIVERSALITY PRACTICABLE. 147 

I have fully preached the gospel of Christ." As nothing is 
clearer, than that it is the will of Christ that His gospel 
should be preached " to every creature," so that they may 
become instructed in all the doctrines and duties of disci- 
pleship, this event can be no impossibility. That it should 
be an actual events at any one assignable time, may be so : 
but the law obliging to endeavour, implies that, ultimately, 
such a point will be reached ; and that it may be hastened 
or delayed, just as neglect or diligence, marks the conduct 
of the Church, as the chartered executive of His law. In 
particular localities, the task is more direct, and definite ; 
certainly not demandmg age upon age for its accompHsh- 
ment, beyond that of the introduction and establishment 
of religion in a land. 

The footsteps of evangelism may surely keep pace with 
those of civilization anywhere. They may assuredly out- 
strip it — ^if they can, in some instances, even anticipate, or 
create it. Now history and fact testify, that no indefinite 
duration must elapse, ere civilization can pervade a tribe, 
or continent of people. A rapidly multiplying population 
may increase the diflficulty of carrying on the evangelizing 
process, in such a country as our own : but this only 
occurs, when some long and criminal default in duty has 
told up in mountainous arrears ; binding upon posterity a 
national debt, far more enonnous and ruinous than that 
which wars, or reckless extravagance, or the necessary cost- 
liness of government, may have entailed upon a land. 
Would, too, that there were less prospect of further accu- 
mulation, and more of liquidation, in the one case than 
the other ! — that the Church, to whom it appertains, so felt 
her burden, as earnestly to set to work for its reduction ! 
— having resources at her command, which, if faithfully 
applied, are not so disproportionate to this end as might be 
supposed. This, if accomplished, would make her pros- 
perous, free, and happy, beyond what we, or our fathers, 
have known ; and would render our efforts for the world's 



148 CHURCH PROVISION. 

conversion as telling as they are now feeble; the re- 
dundancy of our wealth, rather than exactions from our 
poverty ; our glory, as a national expression of faith and 
zeal, not oui* reproach, as now, when religion goes abroad 
in the earth with a stigma of neglect upon her, by her 
own home-bred children — weakened, both in the authority 
of her testimony, and the extent of her resources, as being 
but the represensative of a few, instead of the embassy of 
an empire, more zealous and powerful to enforce its faith, 
than to belt itself with colonies, or, by its commerce, 
wealth, and energy, to gather from the world a homage to 
its name. Hence, evangelization, as it is made our first 
duty, so is its progress the only genuine augmentation of 
church ability to grapple with the more distant, and 
weightier task, of converting the world. It is also the test 
of our sincerity, as well as a training school for enterprise. 
The difficulties which surround it, — the qualities it de- 
mands in the agencies relating to it, — the philanthropy, 
prayer, and sacrifice, which the Church must foster, in 
order to maintain the struggle with her neighbour adversa- 
ries, — are the pre-requisites for her more catholic calUng. 
To voluntary, as they are professedly, spiritual churches, 
the spirit, and the monuments of home extension, are the 
only securities for their existence, or, at least, for the 
maintenance of public consideration. The bias of educa- 
tion, family compact and its advantages ; the hereditary 
affinities that religion has created ; the force of sectarian 
peculiarities, and of secondary principles, — these, if they 
save from extinction, can never secure ascendency: the 
power of the religious element can alone do this. 

To Methodism this is indispensable. Hated from its 
birth, and cradled in persecution, — uncongenial with ex- 
isting sects, and scorned by the wealth and rank of the 
land, — its origin and hold are exclusively popular. It im- 
personates no political creed, as it drew its life from no 
civil or ecclesiastical convulsions. It finds no abutments 



METHODISM ITS PECULIARITIES. 149 

of support in records, or traditions, which link its being 
with some great national events, or crisis of oui* public for- 
tunes. It finds no sympathy in the religious predilections 
of the land. It has hevm. no pillars for itself in its rehgious 
history, in the form of venerable mstitutions, wealthy 
endowments, or literary chieftaincy. It has no pun'-ey- 
ancy for its maintenance which is not purely rehgious; 
nothing accidental or secondary belonging to it, by which 
to impact itself into society, and interweave its existence 
with the very heart of the nation. To this hour, like Israel 
of old, it abides alone, simply as a form of modem evan- 
gehsm, sustained by the unaided energy of the religious 
principle ; and exhibiting no more affinity with the sundry 
ecclesiastical regimes around it, or the genius of the Enghsh 
mind, than the mistletoe with the oak, or the apple-tree, 
from whose sap and stems it draws its life. 

Methodism is, characteristically, expansion ; its progress 
having been more rapid, and extensive, than that Of any 
other form of re\dved Christianity, in modern times. Its 
seed has been scattered almost over the face of the whole 
earth, reproducing its primitive plant, and primitive fruit, 
" a hundred-fold." Its final fortunes are also inherent in 
the principles of its outset, and existing dominion, whether 
at home or abroad. It is impossible that a system so de- 
void of alliances, and subsidiary influences, can ever main- 
tain itself by shifting its position, or taking lower groimd. 
Its religion is everything ; its secondary supports, nothing. 
In this, its sole and absolute dependence on the spiritual 
principle for dominion, it may adopt the language of Con- 
stantine's vision, '* with this, conquer." 

To a pure and catholic doctrine, it joins a popular min- 
istry, and a well- organized subsidiary agency — -a spiritual 
discipline, with church offices ; which, as they were 
original embodiments of the heavenly life, are admirably 
adapted to sustain and perfect it. Its forms are so simple, 
its operations so flexible, its end so direct, — to spread Scrip- 



150 CHURCH PROVISIOX. 

tural holiness throughout the land, — that its duties and 
interests are inseparable, — equally impressed upon its 
character, history, and position. Its work is as definitely 
set forth in the present religious destitution of the English 
populace, as it was in the moment of its birth. It is, if 
it be yet methodism, a most vigorous elementary species 
of Christianit}'-, — its essence concentrated, without the 
more elaborate and imposing adjuncts of system and cir- 
cumstance, such as time and nationahty might cast around 
it. It must still be elementarily powerful, and ceaselessly 
diffusive ; modified indeed by the times that pass over it, 
but never changed, either rudimentally or practically. 
All its systematic, or operative additaments, must be plastic 
as its life, obeisant to its genius, as the body to the in- 
dwelling spirit. It can never give expression to the refine- 
ments of caste, or yield idolatrous worship to wealth and 
station. It is no organ of class sentiments and sympathies, 
as distinct from those of humanity in general. Its ambi- 
tion is not, in the most refined degree, or remote sense, 
secular. It has no secondary objects, as it has no double 
vision. Its voice is simply to the souls of men ; its field of 
enterprise, the masses, everywhere yet bearing the stamp 
of an unreclaimed and unappropriated moral waste. The 
higher classes, wholly, and even the middle classes, par- 
tially, of England's people, are, either by prescription, in- 
terest, or preference, beyond its pale. 

Social organization, so strongly graduated as ours, im- 
plies a corresponding variety of religious extemalism ; and 
will, to a certain extent, bring it to pass, that the superior 
classes will determine their religious category for them- 
selves. The religion, however, of the working man, will 
ever tend to overstep its appropriate bounds, and to throw 
off, from its fecundity, a powerful element for the general 
weal. As it becomes rife among the people whom it is its 
commission to disciple, it will mount upward, and blend 
with the heights of the social region. It will follow the 



METHODISM — ITS POPULAR SYMPATHIES. 151 

great laws of generalization, by which good and evil alike 
hold their sway. 

Hence the points of weakness and strength, as they ap- 
pei-tain to Methodism, He in the opposite extremes of its 
social posture. Its strength lies in its creative power on 
the mass, — its weakness, in the attractive force of class 
contiguity, on the ascending side of the scale. These con- 
tiguities will generate affinities ; and a large waste of 
Church element and resource will result. Church health 
and growth follow the law of our bodily natm-e, supply 
answering to waste ; or the ledger of the merchant, noting 
both expenditure and receipt, loss and gain. Methodism 
is a working Church, grounded on the inspired maxim — 
*' In all labour there is profit." Its only boon is salvation 
— its only merchandise, souls. This bears glory to it, as 
to the Church of prophecy, in a flowing stream. It is to 
her the wealth of the nations, brought within her gates, 
which, as those of the New Jerusalem, should be never 
shut, night nor day. The exhaustion of this traffic must 
needs be its ruin ; its prosperity, the pledge of safety and 
renown. In addition to the fondest instincts of her childi*en 
cleaving to her, as Ruth did to iNTaomi, Methodism re- 
quires large reinforcement from without ; its conservative 
power being chiefly derived from its ever-unfolding energy 
— its restless, himgry appetency, which roams over sea and 
land to make proselytes ; but m no lower sense than He 
who endeavoiu-ed " to make all men see the fellowship of 
the mystery." 

Methodism cannot be refunded by merely indigenous 
production, by family influences, by early prepossessions, 
or by set, institutional agency. Its working animus must 
not be down to par ; the standard taken, being the general 
religious tone of the age. It requires a higher pitch — the 
simultaneous action of all its people — the full kingdom of 
heaven in their souls. If these conditions be not present, 
its vantage ground is lost — its leverage on society, extinct. 



152 ciiURcn pr.ovisTox. 

A mere average of religious feeling and power, cannot save 
it from decline. If it has nothing to offer beyond its con- 
temporaries, in the fulness of its evangelism, it can hardly 
compete with them, much less outstrip them in public in- 
fluence. The only grounds of preference for it disappear ; 
and the less inviting aspects of the system, become promi- 
nent to the public eye. When ordinary motives only 
operate, to choose or refuse allegiance to Methodism, the 
odds will probably be strongly against it. Sectional differ- 
ences will be the staple of comparison ; relative advantages 
and disadvantages will be scrupulously balanced ; and when 
the understanding, rather than the heart, becomes umpire 
in the cause, a hesitating consent, or a cold negative, is a 
far more probable issue of the trial, than when the strong 
impulse of rehgion alone decides it. 

Methodism requires that its centres of action should be 
strengthened, extended, and multipHed. It should be 
spread over a greater surface in the land of its nativity, 
than hitherto, that it may be able to adopt the language of 
an early apologist for Christianity, as fairly descriptive of 
the facts of its own position — " We are but of yesterday, it 
is true, and yet Ave have filled all your towns." ^ ^^ * 
*^ The whole world is our republic : we are a body united 
in one bond of religion, discipline, and hope." 

Its condition should not be now, as when its founder, and 
his immediate successors, like patriarchs, w^ent through the 
length and breadth of the land, regarding it as an inherit- 
ance predestinated for future occupancy, — " when they 
were but few, and strangers in it." Rather is it the duty 
of their spiritual seed, to spread themselves abroad every- 
where, and to hear the echoes of the prophetic voice, bid- 
ding them into possession, as it did the Gentile Church to 
expand herself, until she had fully encompassed the w^orld : 
— "Enlarge the place of thy tent, and let them stretch 
forth the curtains of thy habitation: spare not, lengthen 
thy cords, and strengthen thy stakes." These terms, taken 



METHODISM — DEPENDENCE ON ITS PRIMITIVE SPIRIT. 153 

from the ancient tabernacle, — itself a striking type of the 
Christian Church, — beautifully denote a rapidly progressing 
evangelism, a vast numerical increase, arising from in- 
gatherings from contiguous territory ; and a consequent ex- 
pansion of the visible occupancy of religion in the land. In 
the midst of various correlated forms of Christian profes- 
sion, while separate Church interest must be pursued, as a 
man does the business of his calling, with the full im- 
pression that his own interests are his chief concern, the 
most scrupulous regard must be cherished towards the 
rights of contemporary communities ; and the spirit of party 
proselytism must be utterly abjured. They are anti- 
Christian propensities, which find indulgence in the mere 
transfer of persons from one Church to another. It is a 
fleshly vision, which can discern no higher glory in reli- 
gious effort, than in merely affixing a party-badge upon its 
disciples. This is a public scandal to religion, wherever it 
is carried on, — a glorying in the flesh, not in the cross. It 
compresses all the divine glories of evangelism to the narrow 
measure, and paltry interests of a sect. It is not only an 
implied declaration of impotency, to grapple with the great 
task of evangehzing men, but of contempt for it. It ex- 
hibits the subtility of Jacob, without the righteousness of 
his cause, who put the rods into the gutters, when the 
cattle conceived, making them ring-streaked and speckled ; 
and thus succeeded in transferring Laban's wealth to him- 
self. Nay, more : it is the spirit of seduction and pecu- 
lation; the very same which defrauded an apostle of the 
hard-earned fruits of his ministry, and alienated from him 
multitudes of his children, for whom his soul had travailed 
within him, — a spirit, which, as it did then, so, to this day, 
does it track the footsteps of evangeHsm in every cHme ; as 
Satan wended his way to Paradise, and, since then, trans- 
formed into an angel of light, '' has not ceased to pervert 
the right ways of the Lord." The two attributes of decep- 
tion and cruelty, which marked the first temptation, are 



154 CHURCH PROVISION. 

identified through all time, as the unvarying type of the 
agency of the destroyer. It is the wolf in sheep's clothing. 

The proper test of an evangelic temper in the Church, 
is an enthusiastic devotedness to the one great end of the 
world's redemption ; and its ability to prosecute it is the 
test of its practical worth to society, and a sure prognostic 
of a triumphant course. Gathering fresh elements of 
strength from an influx of converted people, it renews 
church-youth from time to time, *'like the eagle's." It 
lives in and 5y the people, striking into the living mass, as 
leaven into the meal. Its very successes constantly recruit 
its powers of advance. This Bethesda enlarges its porches, 
to receive the throng of impotent folk, which never fails to 
flow into it as a house of mercy, so long as its waters, 
troubled by the Angel of the Covenant, are found to heal 
every one that steps in. 

Of this high and resistless evangelism, Methodism, in its 
rise and career, is no mean example ; and the utmost power 
of it, the general condition of society now urgently needs. 
The contest for the people must not be abandoned, by the 
only characteristically popular form of Christianity in the 
land. Mainly, though not exclusively, the evangehzation 
of the populace of England, is the appropriate task of Wes- 
ley's descendants— himself the prince of home missionaries ; 
and, like Abraham, the father of a multitude of people. 
To them were addressed most appositely, in the centenary 
of their existence, the words of the apostle, — '^ Ye see your 
calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the 
flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called : but God 
has chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the 
wise; and God has chosen the weak things of the world 
to confound the things that are mighty ; and the base things 
of the world, and things that are despised, has God chosen, 
yea, and things that are not, to bring to naught things that 
are : that no flesh should glory in his presence." This sec- 
tion of Scripture, so historically descriptive of the primitive 



METHODISM ITS SELF-IMPELLENCY. 155 

direction of Christianity through society, is singularly true 
to the facts of Methodism itself ; and is as suggestive of its 
present policy and prospects. Its vocation as a Church is 
as much determined by the existing condition of society 
around it, as by any distinctive principles which belong to 
it as a form of evangelism. For while we claim on its be- 
half a general suitability to society, founded on what, at 
first sight, may seem a disparagement to it — its simplicity, 
its office certainly is especially popular. It not only deals 
in the great working truths of Christianity, but pushes these 
to full and prompt issues. Its most characteristic appeal, 
if put into Scripture phrase, is, ''My son, give me thy 
heart.'* Methodism all turns upon this heart-pivot. It 
grounds itself upon a known and/e/^ conversion. It can 
take nothing as satisfying its demand, but a Scripturally as- 
certained redemption from sin to God. Its discipline and 
pastoral system are all ranged about this truth, and are in- 
tended to give it practical expression. 

The peculiar ordinances and usages of Methodism cannot 
be transferred to any other system. Its sentiment, language, 
and practical type, are together but its theology in its all- 
plastic action. If it requires less preparatory work than 
other systems to form its people, it provides a more care- 
ful oversight, and vigorous discipHne, to guard and train 
them in the ways of godliness. Methodism, without pro- 
fessing to be — what no church on earth can be— an exact 
copy of the primitive, is essentially catholic and apostolic. 
It is founded exclusively on the gospel, as the one, and 
everlasting law of the kingdom of God — the immediate and 
perfect instrument, as well as testimony, of a saving sove- 
reignty. It looks strongly and steadily upon the declara- 
tion, "Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is 
the day of salvation.'' It is unspeculative and anti-millena- 
rian : because settled in the assurance, that the existing pro- 
visions of redemption are full and sufficient; and that all 
the differences of church position, and degrees of spiritual 



156 CHURCH PROVISION. 

life, which mark off the age of pentecost from those which 
followed it, or the last days from the present, are not to 
be imputed to dispensational varieties, but to the sovereignty 
of one administration, various in its issues, but in perfect cor- 
respondence with the moral aspects of the world, and in 
entire consistency with the doctrine of a universal reign of 
grace. It is the deep practical behef of this gospel record, 
— ^the strong vision of it entertained by spiritual minds, — 
which supphes the grand moving power to a Scripturally 
organized Church. This must create an omnipotent action. 
It does not pause to speculate on results, or to estimate con- 
tingencies. It joins itself with every promise made to faith, 
drawing deeply from these '' wells of salvation.'' It calls 
into operation the whole store of evangelic motive, influence, 
and sanction. It is the parent of a truly rational earnest- 
ness in religious action, storing up every portion of church 
gift for vigorous use. It maintains an intense interest among 
the faithful, in the one great object of church existence. 
It draws a bond around the whole constituency of spiritual 
mind, and gives it sympathy and unity of volition inherent 
in an individual spirit. This originates the material of church 
operation. It is affluent in resources, making riches to 
abound even in '^ deep poverty ;" and by the width of its 
enterprise, and the nature of its successes, raises in the mind 
of the thinking portion of the world, a feehng of astonish- 
ment, that men and measures so insignificant could have 
accomplished such mighty works. 

In all epochs of a triumphant gospelhng, the olden won- 
der, raised by the citizens of Nazareth, at the Master's con- 
trasted parentage and performances, has been renewed : — 
" From whence hath this man these things ? and what wisdom 
is this which is given him, that even such mighty works are 
wrought by his hands ? Is not this the carpenter, the son 
of Mary ?" To do great things, not to vaunt them ; to make 
the fact its own witness, and the prodigy as palpable as 
the spring of it is mysterious to the eyes of the world, — is a 



METHODISM— -ITS REPROACH ITS HONOUR. 157 

peculiar trait of the disciples of such a Master. It is alike 
His honour and His shame reflected from them, through 
the career of successive centuries, and shared by every 
chmxh, in proportion to its conformity with the Lord him- 
self. In these aspects, has Methodism reared its head most 
prominently before the world, as the latest, and most mighty 
birth of evangehsm. Its direct and reflex influence has been 
indeed prodigious, compelling attention by its progress, 
yet invested with the same mysterious air to every class of 
inquirers and judges, as by them all — whether sage, politi- 
cian, religionist, or infidel — it has been examined and dis- 
missed, with vehement condemnation, or w^ith but rare and 
doubtful praise. Yet its energy and success have never been 
questioned ; they have rather been exaggerated. Its name 
has been imposed upon religionists, who have repudiated it 
as a scandal ; loathing it, not more because the world des- 
pised it, than because all parties agreed to stigmatize it, as 
a sort of illegitimate birth. 

In the ascription to Methodism of a spiritual ubiquity, and 
of a power so fecund, the world has borne to it an honour- 
able testimony, when it intended a bitter sarcasm ; as did 
Pilate, when, in derision, he affixed the real title of Jesus 
to the cross. The primitive ofi'ence of our Church was not 
less its zeal than its principles. Its annoyance was its ob- 
trusive activity ; as was that of the Church of Pentecost, as 
avowed by the Council to the Apostles, ''Ye have filled 
Jerusalem with your doctrine." Such was the spirit that 
created Methodism ; such only the spirit that can maintain 
it. Its present vocation is not difierent from, and certainly 
not less important than, its primitive one. As, oft, a master 
mind is demanded to lead on a movement in society, or to 
begin one ; to propose plans, or to perfect discoveries, in 
the arts or sciences ; to exercise kingship in letters, philoso- 
phy, or government : so may a church hold analogous pre- 
rogatives in respect to other communities, to the religion 
of an age, or to the general exigencies of the world. Much 



158 CHURCH PROVISION. 

of real sovereignty, however disowned, has Methodism ex- 
ercised over the destinies of churches, kingdoms, and the 
world at large. Much power has been given it *• over the 
nations ;" with the brightness of '' the morning star," divine- 
ly portending the glories of the coming millenary age. 

So far, indeed, from the opinion and the demand being 
held reasonable, which certain exclusionists have advanced, 
that Methodism, having accomplished a seasonable and im- 
portant work for the religion of the country, should now 
meekly withdraw its claims to public notice, yield up its 
acquisitions to a chartered ecclesiasm, and, like the blessed 
dead, rest from its labours ; or, so far from a more liberal 
judgment being counted wise, that, satisfied with an influ- 
ential position amongst the churches of the age, it should 
now forego the ruder arts of its first gospelling, and adopt 
the mere common-places of church system and decorum, — 
that we hold both these counsels, if followed, would be 
equally fatal to it, as injurious to the religious interests 
of the land, as suicidal to itself. The spirit which, in the 
form of Methodism, awoke the churches from their deadly 
slumbers, is still required to stimulate their flagging life, 
and to lead them on in the great warfare ; which, so far 
from being almost finished, after the onslaughts of a cen- 
tury, is scarcely more than begun. 

Indebted, beyond all computation, as England is, to the 
labours and system of Wesley, it can no more afford to lose 
their benefits, than it can discharge the burden of its obli- 
gations. The moral aid it has lent to our social institu- 
tions, in the searching ordeal of recent times, is incalcu- 
lable ; and it now holds an office (whether ever fully dis- 
charged or not) for the public weal, by its education and 
evangelizing labours, to prepare us for the future, — pos- 
sibly more pregnant with hazardous changes than even the 
past. Wide observation demonstrates, that no religious 
movement of the present day, nor extension of other 
moulds of Christian profession, have superseded the public 



METHODISM ITS BREADTH OF OCCUPANCY. 169 

necessity for Methodism. Were it inoperative, or defunct, 
what section of the Church is prepared to take its place, or 
to do its work ? Where is the redundant energy contained 
in the soul of any evangelical community, impatient of re- 
straint ? or, where the surplus of resources, whether spiritual 
or material, by which such a vacuum could be at once re- 
plenished, and the image of desolation hidden from our 
eyes ? Abstract its Sunday schools, its village preachings, 
its rural congregations, and little bands of Christians, scat- 
tered everywhere abroad, and how great a part of the light 
and religion of England is at once extinguished ! What 
sect, besides itself, has carried the gospel into any consi- 
derable width of English territory, beyond its townships and 
more populous districts ? No other branch of ISToncon- 
formity has thus taken root, and '* filled the land.'' The 
hreadih of Methodist operation is the noblest comment on 
its creed and piety. IS^or is it humiliated by a comparison 
with other, and older communities, in the leading towns, 
and central districts of the empire ; but its village labours 
are its distinctive glory, and its large aggregate of godly 
poor its greatest treasure. 

Such a system, so far from being permitted or desired to 
wane, should be extended and welcomed. It has, in no pe- 
riod of its history, interfered with the agencies of other sys- 
tems, or despoiled them of their strength. It has singularly 
verified and expounded the saying of Christ — " It is more 
blessed to give, than to receive," inasmuch as it has en- 
riched all, but impoverished none. Like Israel, imder the 
full benediction of the law, it has lent, but not borrowed ; 
much less, robbed other churches. From this fact, which 
challenges controversy, we are entitled to predict, that its far 
wider spread in Britain, would not only augment the sum of 
living piety, but would invigorate every evangelical society 
within its borders. It is to the wide reign of ignorance, 
vice, and ungodliness, unmolested from age to age, or to 
the despicable artifices of party recrimination and reprisal, 



160 CHURCH PRO^^sION. 

that religious communities owe their leanness and lan- 
guishing; not to the widening strides of a simple evan- 
gelism, intent only on saving souls. This is a blessing, 
that a curse; the one blights, the other rains and smiles 
fertility upon their territories. The one provokes to emu- 
lation by brotherly example; the other, exasperates by 
malicious aspersions, or repels by the scowls of bigotry. 
A catholic spirit is a zeal which enhghtens and refines, 
without scorching ; as the offspring of the gospel, it is not 
merely innocuous, it is the veriest beneficence of power. It 
regards means and ends as one consistent manifestation of 
this same divine principle : less concerned who is the doer, 
than that the deed be done. 

That there should exist such a passion as jealousy, the 
spirit of political partisanship, or of commercial compe- 
tition, of secular potentates, intent on superiority over 
rivals, or the maintenance of the balance of power among 
each other, where so divine an interest as religion is con- 
cerned, is the sorest reproach to human nature; a sin 
equally against the law of love to God and man. That 
the world may be neglected, — and, neglected, perish, from 
the strife of rival sects, — would have been accounted an 
all but blasphemous imputation, had not stern verity com- 
pelled the utterance of it as a fact. Men, of whatever pro- 
fession, are too prone to act, as though there were other 
and greater interests to be followed out, than the mere 
advancement of religion in the world ; or as if there were 
other rights to be withheld, or other masters to be served 
than Jesus Christ. The assumption of paramount claims 
and prerogatives, is altogether chimerical, where an appeal 
lies to the Bible, as a common privilege ; and the tactics of 
check and neutrahzation, frequently adopted by Christian 
communities toward each other, is a worse than prepos- 
terous strategy for the armies of the cross, insuring defeat, 
and covering with dishonour. 

The extension of religious economy, commensurate with 



METHODISM ITS CATHOLIC AUSPICES. 161 

the wants of society, and its quickened impulse in every 
direction, are the one present obligation of the Church ; 
without the performance of which, its own interest must 
needs decay, and society itself bound onwards, only to test 
the insufficiency of its resources, and the incurableness of 
its coiTuptions. History and observation jointly testify, 
what prophecy sets forth figuratively, when it declares of 
the tree of hfe, that its leaf is " for the healing of the na- 
tions." This medicine for society must be appHed ; and if 
it is pervei^seness in the world, it is unbelief in the Chmxh, 
to act as if discovery were yet to be tarried for. It is the 
administration only of what exists, that the moral urgencies 
of our land call for greater consecration of wealth ; 
greater appropriations of time, and of working energy ; a 
more public spirited and generous nature implanted in the 
religious mind of the age to meet this all important case 
of national evangelization. A greatly extended pastorate, 
and a vigorous lay agency, are indispensable to this work. 
A modification of whatever exists in these departments of 
church functions is called for ; and a fresh spirit should be 
infused mto them, that the task may be renewed with a 
primitive force. IS'othing less than a whole church roused 
to full action, is demanded by the present crises ; a breadth, 
and a detail of action, which shall comprise, and morally 
test, the entire mass of our population. The agency of the 
town and city mission, the labours of the tract distributor, 
or the occasional visitation of the sick, and homes of desti- 
tution, will not suffice. The populace must be thoroughly 
taught, pervaded, moved, brought out of their deathlike 
isolation and apathy into congregational unity, into the full 
influence of the sympathies and bonds of religion. They 
must be brought to acknowledge the authority of the Sab- 
bath, and to take the impress of church influences. The 
difficulties and the drudgery of such an undertaking are 
apparent ; but its importance is a commanding plea on its 
behalf, and the performance of it a sufficient recompense. 



162 CHURCH PROVISION. 

The noblest patriots and pliilantliropists, are the men, of 
whatever name, who go forth to redeem the English mind 
from its vassalage to ignorance and evil; pouring into its 
dark and dismal abyss, a tide of sanitary element from the 
open bosom of the Church, the mystic temple of prophecy, 
which was beheld sending forth its streams of living water 
into the dead sea. 

Such is the office of Methodism at this hour. The con- 
dition of our country, so often and powerfully described,- 
but never more vividly truthful than in the words of mspira- 
tion, as a body covered with *' wounds, and bruises, and pu- 
trefying sores," which have not been '' bound up, nor mol- 
lified with ointment," supplies the tenderest appeals to the 
mercy of the physician, to the yearnings of the Church, in 
every form of its existence. The facts of the case proclaim 
the common duty of believers ; and nothing beyond these 
either can or should be added, to compel the most anxious 
and agonizing efforts for public relief. The mission of Me- 
thodism to the poor, has not yet been fulfilled ; and it may, 
far more than any other resource comprehended within our 
country's limits, yet bear the glory of being its moral re- 
novator. Its simplicity, directness, flexibility, vigour, are 
qualities of prime importance to a popular form of religion ; 
and if, for a season, its course has been arrested, and its 
labours failed, resignation to such an issue is as small a 
homage to its history, as it is heroism in a crisis. The 
labours of extension may become, in certain cases, equally 
severe with those which originate a movement ; but they 
cannot on that account be declined. A change of position 
must be shown which warrants the diminution, much less 
the surceasing of effort. The glorious times of prophecy 
must have more than verged upon us, when " the ploughman 
shall overtake the reaper, and the treader of grapes him 
that soweth the seed." There are times familiar to expe- 
rience, when the conflicts of a great, and hitherto ascendent 
principle, become so many and mighty, as to threaten it with 



METHODISM ^NECESSITY FOPw ITS REINFORCEMENT. 1G3 

arrest and suppression ; requiring a new momentum to sub- 
sidize it for action, and tlius once more to set it at liberty 
from competing forces. Then, the value of a principle long 
held, and familiarly recognised, but insensibly depreciated, 
returns to its former standard and power to actuate us. 
Errors are detected, of slow and silent growth, in the pro- 
gress of working a system. The nature and force of social 
changes, which had escaped attention, are closely scrutinized. 
The grounds of action are again surveyed, and the position 
and prospects of a church, estimated in a sober and discri- 
mating, but not in a timid spirit. Existing resources are 
thankfully acknowledged, and confided in ; advantages con- 
trasted with discouragements ; the acquisitions of pious toil, 
the legacy of sainted minds, with the nothingness from 
which the Church sprang forth, hke a creation at the voice 
of God. 

From such musings we gather assurance, that if Method- 
ism could scarcely have been brought forth in the present 
age, — even though the master-spirit of its founder should, 
like Elijah or the Baptist, have reappeared, — the same 
Providence which ordained its existence a century earher, 
has appointed his successors to toil in another work : just 
as the pastorate instituted by, and following the apostles, 
was not required to found the chmxh, but to huild it, ''till 
we all come," says one of these, "in the unity of the faith, 
and the knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man, to 
the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." 

The infancy of Methodism being passed, care is now de- 
manded for its growth. Its nourishment and culture devolve 
upon the hving generation of its people. Its stature is to 
be looked to, dwarfishness to be deprecated, decline to be 
provided against, the perfect manhood of its life to be as- 
pired after, and prayed for, — such a perfection as shall show 
*' the stature of the fulness of Christ." 



164 METHODISM. 



CHAPTER YIII. 

METHODISM. 

" The Churcli being both a society, and a society supernatural, it hath 
the self-same original grounds which other politic societies, namely, 
the natural inclination which all men have unto sociable life, and con- 
sent to some certain bond of association ; which bond is the Law that 
appointeth what kind of order they shall be associated in." — Hooker. 

The great idea of the polity of Methodism is unity. It 
seems intended to effect, by voluntary combination alone, 
what has been accomplished either by state incorporation, 
or the simple presence of evangelism, when it has im- 
pressed its own form on the transmuted materials of Pagan- 
ism. This idea of Methodism is naturally broad and 
prominent, as it is mainly the work of one mind of great 
practical force, and long continued action in creating it. 
Hence, has issued a type too strongly defined, and rudi- 
mentally deep, to have been effaced in after times by the 
succession of subordinate minds engaged in working it. 
These have done little more than expand it into details, 
but with scarce the addition of a single new feature. 

To the origin of this unity, may be appended a brief 
reference to its principles ; such as, its doctrinal articles, 
comprising an evangelical Arminianism, with a distinctive 
point or two of its own — a doctrinal standard answering 
to that of Luther's " Stantis vel cadentis ecclesise ;" leav- 
ing merely speculative, or very secondary topics, out of its 
category. 

Again, this doctrinal standard is represented by a minis- 
try of equal rights and privileges ; compacted into a brother- 
hood, by the mode in which each is separately inducted into 
fellowship, and moulded to it by the force of its disciplinary 
ordinances. 

With this, again, is interwoven the legal element, intended 



FUNDAMENTALS OF ITS POLITY. 165 

to subserve the maintenance of its theology, the balance 
between the ministry and the people, and also to bind both 
to a central power. To the conference, as this central 
power, appertains the power of the keys : it is intra and 
extra governmental, possessing both the legislative and ex- 
ecutive fimctions ; and is itself the last court of appeal, 
whether to ministers or people. 

Another property of the union is its local system, which 
is simply the multiplication of concentric circles, comprising 
a imited pastorate, with graduated offices for localaction. 

Further, itineranc]/ may be joined with these, by which 
particular and disruptive tendencies are ca.n celled ; as each 
joint pastorate is but a representation of a grand presby- 
tery, and its delegated executive. 

This unity, then, consists in a central power, with certain 
laws and administrative an-angements, the joint action of 
which is self- conserving. From these issue the recognition 
of relations, such as those of rule and dependence ; with 
their corresponding obligations, which, though not origina- 
ting in compact, are regulated by it, and co-existent with 
it. In aid of these, rise up the idiosyncracies always indi- 
genous in such associations, — a large class of sympathies 
awakened and kept in action by them. 

This self-conservation extends to various particulars, — 
as doctrinal purity, on which the whole is based ; and per- 
sonal religion, which, originated and fostered by its various 
ministers, returns to it a grateful and impassioned attach- 
ment. Its economy is invested to its people with a hyper- 
sacredness; while its ordinances and forms of communion 
rank next to the verities of religion. Such a church in- 
spires more than a spiritual patriotism ; it is the home of a 
happy and filial-tempered family ; but prone to regard the 
Christian commonwealth with disproportionate interest. 
Self-conservation respects also its independence and perpe- 
tuity ; its hold upon its people for their own highest spiritual 
good, — ^but not without reference to its own name and in- 



166 METHODISM. 

fluence in the world, as a branch of the catholic Church, 
engaged, by the most approved means, to spread the faith 
and dominion of Christ to the uttermost. The proper ten- 
dency of this unity is indeed expansion, which, on the 
ground of its exclusively religious principle, is more free and 
vigorous ; all the more human because divine. 

To the strength of this principle may be added the sub- 
limity and intensity of those instincts which evangelism 
creates ; the superior leverage which inheres in all corpo-- 
rate forms of humanity ; the well- compacted agencies which 
a large system supplies ; the means of self-accumulation, as 
well as the aspiration and courage arising from a feeling of 
sufficiency to attempt great things. Missionary operations 
are illustrative of a conservative reaction, as well as of the 
expansive power resident iii a connexional system. These, 
as issues of a union, have both spread and consolidated it ; 
no unattached churches being able to vie with it, either in 
the amount of their resources, or the breadth and success 
of their labours. 

But the weakness and the strejjgth of Methodism are 
coincident. A numerous and graduated agency, designed 
both to maintain and extend it, must be well-conditioned in 
order to effect ; and, in the absence of this, weakness and 
disorder ensue. The working material appropriate to 
Methodism, can only be secured by the careful selection 
and able training of a vigilant pastorate. Here itinerancy 
halts : as a pastoral system, it is desultory, from too wide: 
a surface of action, and a lack of subsidiary motives, to fulfil: 
that relation. Its general effect is to weaken the sense of 
responsibility, and to discourage effort in the ministry. Its 
effect on the people, is to detach them from persons , and to 
cast them entirely on the system. 

A modification of itinerancy is a certain, and not a re- 
mote futurity. Antagonist to the sentiments of the age, and 
to the example of other churches, it cannot, ultimately, 
persist in holding up an anomaly. The difficulties of the 



ITS POLITY CONSERVING AND EXPANSIVE. 167 

pastorate are increased, also, by the diminution of its rela- 
tive superiority, when grouped with a large lay agency. 
Hence the wisdom of the step, but recently taken, of pro- 
viding an educated ministry. 

Adverse aspects of society to the pecuharities of the 
Methodist polity, may be noted. Such are the assimilation 
of all church constitutions to a political basis ; an extreme 
self-dependence and egotism, as a character of the age ; an 
instinctive dislike of whatever is antiquated, or somewhat 
authoritative, in its cast of appeal: these, and the like 
causes, effect a wider chasm between society and a par- 
ticular form of religious pohty, than the mere set depravity 
of our race. It may be more out of chime with society than 
ordinary. When revelation itself is but too commonly 
assaulted, and classed with myths and traditions, it is no 
wonder if the less consonant modes of its presentation with 
popular feehng, are classed with worn-out things. 

These ideas also tinge the mind which a church takes in, 
working a silent incongruity between its people and its 
institutions ; so that these moulds of church Hfe no longer 
answer to the spirit that animates them. The man is not 
absorbed by his system. There is a residuary element 
sti-uggling against it, hable to be awakened into sinister 
action, by new and startling circumstances. Hence, an ac- 
cumulation of democratic element seems inevitable, which, 
if resisted, brings disruption, — if yielded to, revolution. 
Unity also may perish by negation, and not by disturbance 
only. The compact may be destroyed by mutual ahenation, 
as well as by mutual encroachment; provokmg collision, 
and ending in ruin. Incessant vigilance, and large-hearted 
prudence, are demanded to take the bearings of a church, 
as of a nation ; to estimate influences, and probable issues ; 
and to provide timely checks and conservations, such as 
may prevent the ripening of mischiefs, and furnish new forms 
and force of action. Strength and rigidity must not be 
confounded : elasticity being a sign of unexpended life ; a 



168 METHODISM. 

mere adherence to forms, as prescriptive and venerable, a 
sure sign of old age. 

From tlie only avowedly infallible, and, therefore, the 
only immutable church in the world, we may not disdain^to 
take a lesson, — "fas est ab hoste doceri," — which, never- 
theless, with infinite versatility, adapts its instrumentahties 
to all varieties of men and times. 

The unity of the governing power with itself, is, if possi- 
ble, yet more imperative; it being, perhaps, an unique 
example in Church history which Methodism exhibits, of an 
extended presbytery, so perfectly amalgamated. This, 
however, must still consist with Individuality , and mem- 
bership with manliness. Liberty is undoubtedly modified 
by the nature of such a compact ; but this very fact should 
create an additional jealousy to guard the remainder from 
curtailment. The articles and influences of combination can- 
not be made to rival the unities of nxiture ; nor points of 
conventionalism assimilate with the properties of an essence. 
Strongly defined, they must leave wide interstices for the 
range of other relations, save the one of mere brotherhood. 
Space must remain for the play of diversity of character, 
and for minds of larger growth ; or for the same mind in 
its stages towards maturity. A man must not be less re- 
cognised as an individuality in a Presbytery (the common- 
wealth of Christianity) than under an Episcopate, its more 
regal form of embodiment. 

It is also necessary to repress, as far as possible, the 
strong inherent tendencies, in an union, io politico-esoteri- 
cisMy — from which it is impossible to separate, as its coun- 
terpart, an ostrax:ism. Hence naturally arise parties in 
the union, with their tissue of mischiefs, jealousies, rest- 
lessness, counter- workings ; schism, sooner or later extend- 
ing through the body, and, hke a paralysis, smiting it from 
head to foot. Other serious, if not fatal, consequences may 
be noted. A political spirit is fostered by it, on ecclesias- 
tical matters, to which religion itself is in danger of becoming 



POLITY ITS INHERENT DIFFICULTIES. 169 

secondary. The state-action becomes too noisy and frictional 
to consist with the quiet inspirations of spirituality; it be- 
comes all-pervading as an element, not in the church only, 
but in the family and social circle, — as little to the health, 
as to the comfort, of those whom it surrounds. 

The difficulty of maintaining the conserving forces of an 
imion, is increased by its growing magnitude, and the com- 
plicity involved in its agencies and administration. The 
central force is more encumbered, and, at the same time, 
more remote. The sense of dependence on it is propor- 
tionably lessened, and, with this, is proportionably depre- 
ciated. Its action, though equally important, (perhaps more 
so,) is viewed with more jealousy ; and the smallest increase 
of momentum, even though to right itself, produces a shock, 
with its direct consequences — alarm and scrutiny, not un- 
mixed with resentment. A host, in proportion to its num- 
bers, depends on its discipline, which, unimpaired, gives it 
the unity of a single man ; but, on its suspension, confusion 
ensues, and it may all the sooner become a wreck. The 
enchantment gone, that swayed so vast an assemblage of 
different capacities, and dispositions, has left all the jargon 
of these incongruities to riot till they separate, making the 
spectacle of its destruction far more w^onderful than its 
creation. 

The modes of relief, open to unwieldly and incoherent 
bodies, are less theoretically than historically manifest. 
Amendment, or partial reconstruction, is one ; the emission 
of intractable material is another ; and a third is a division 
into several communities, either independent or federally 
related only. All these, however, have their drawbacks. 
The primary and true policy is conservation combined with 
movement, — and the one in order to the other. 

The currents of society must not be thwarted, or dammed 
up ; but easy channels should be formed for their undisturbed 
flow, and they should be made tributary to church strength, 
instead of draining off its life. The happy art xmdoubtedly 

8 



170 METHODISM. 

is, that of a musician who combines various, and even dis- 
cordant, notes into harmony ; or, to ascend higher, of the 
Divine Mind, which combines conflicting powers into glorious 
unities, by the interposition of such affinities and balances 
as best serve his ends. 

Periodic convulsions, in a body, though they relieve from 
disturbance, abstract its energies. The residuary becomes 
effete, while the birth of agitation, for the moment preter- 
naturally active, subsides into permanent torpor. When 
the separated portion is comparatively fractional only, it is 
almost as liable to wither and die, as a branch riven from 
its parent stem ; there is the loss of just so much salutary 
agency to society in general, with a proportionate defalca- 
tion from the residuary church. This is all but an unmixed 
evil. It is only when the seceding mass approximates to 
the residuary, that the chances of life and groAvth are in- 
creased by the breadth of counter-array, and energetic com- 
petition. Character and reputation are frightfully dete- 
riorated by the struggles of schisms — incomparably the 
most intense of human collisions, as they issue from the 
very depths of our moral nature. It is obvious that frequent 
internal convulsion and separation must consume much of 
the life and resources of any community. Their effect must 
be a moral as well as statistical retrogression : the results 
of former toil are squandered ; the harvest of years strewn 
to the winds. Considering the terrifically Antinomian ex- 
hibitions of such seasons, and the stimulus they give to the 
infidel and profane, the wonder is, that religion itself, in 
any particular form of it where this happens, survives the 
blow, — not that it should, for a time, languish, or its re- 
covery be slow. Such a fact seems to declare its divinity 
as a thing separable from the worst possible accidents, and 
that its resurrectional energies are as the reflection of that 
of Christ himself, from the tomb ; a type, too, of its final 
triiunph alike over the treachery of friends, and the insidts 
of foes. 



POLITY ITS DISRUPTIVE AGENCIES. 171 

Perhaps the chief element m generating disturbance and 
dissolution in any large corporate form of Christianity, may 
be detected in the very principles of its origin ; namely, the 
necessary adhesion in forming it of much that is simply 
human, and therefore liable to change, and the aggregations 
of the same nature attendant on its progress. These be- 
come, or are in danger of becoming, not very subordinate 
accessaries to the divine principle, but substitutes for it. 
The human canonry is liable to usurp the mind of the com- 
munity, rendering it therefore more and more subject to 
cross influences, until the whole is regarded as a debatable 
affair ; and hence its dissolution may evene, as an organiza- 
tion separable from religion itself, a fact to which men in 
the earlier stages of their combination do not wake up. Fur- 
ther, as in the order of nature instincts precede reason, and 
are fundamental to it, while the latter marks the era of 
manhood ; so in societies, instincts are primitive and most 
cohesive, but their history shows a transition analogous to 
that of nature, as their permanent condition. This corres- 
pondence indicates a stage of existence, and an outset of 
change ; also the wisdom of calculating and providing for 
it, supplementing waning sect instincts, by sound reasons 
of preference. Successive generations can hardly be ex- 
pected to view the same object, as those who came before. 
With distance, haze and indistinctness are identified. 
Altered position imphes, if not altered relation, altered as- 
pect and interest. The primitive bond, so strong from its 
freshness, or the small numbers it enclosed, attenuates in 
proportion to its length and antiquity. Such tendencies 
are natural, and therefore resistless. Fraternity, so strong 
in a mere clan or handful of individuals, runs out in a 
nation. Early associations and traditions are enchantments 
no longer. The era of legend and poetry has passed away, 
utiUty is consulted, comparison is active; especially, it 
becomes difficult to mould youth to correspondence with 
an olden type. They seem to have drawn breath in another 



It2 METHODISM. 

clime, and to break away to affinities of their own. It may- 
be, that the religious world itself has changed its mould ; 
older forms may have been resuscitated, deriving a charm 
from their heraldry and historic fame, favoured by the ever 
capricious turns of times, and the tendencies of man to 
make his antipathies and elections change place. Spiritual 
unions, to be perpetuated and extended, demand an undi- 
minished religious energy. They are like classes of plants, 
which require a certain clime as proper to their life and 
fruitfulness, but which die if removed from it, or should 
the altered axis of the globe give them another aspect to 
the sun. Voluntary churches can only work well as they 
adopt the entire New Testament law ; not as a theory, but 
as a practical currency. This, to them, must be in the 
place of artificial guides and restrictions, such as state char- 
ters, and state sanctions ; they must be internally ruled and 
fully pervaded by the " kingdom of heaven," or else schism 
and dissolution must ensue. 

The prospects of Methodism are bound up with its effi- 
ciency. This respects both the system itself, and the work- 
ing condition of it. That system can hardly be otherwise 
than valuable, which combines so pure a theology, and so 
well compacted an organization, with inherent tendencies 
to produce wide effects. It is no small honour to the piety 
both of the ministry and the people, that the doctrinal 
foundation of Methodism has never been disturbed: for 
this does not seem to be the result of compact, much less 
of legal intervention, but of deep and universal conviction; 
and this again, not the result of a comparatively sheltered 
position from the assaults of error, which has beset society 
and invaded other churches, no, nor even of speculative 
enlightenment, but of experimental demonstration, both in 
those who have dispensed, and those who have received its 
teachings. Its piety has been singularly self- conserving, 
its life has been its light. Its doctrinal fountain has flowed 
onward unpolluted. Faithfully has the imited brotherhood 



POLITY — ITS SUBSIDIARY ATTRACTIONS. 173 

stood as guardian of this precious trust ; " the river which 
makes glad the city of God." 

The etching of John Wesley's discipline has been, per- 
haps, somewhat more than filled up. Yet ministerial in- 
tegrity has been uniformly aimed at, and, on the whole, 
well secured. In general, the balance has been struck be- 
tween the extremes of lenity and severity, in the mutual 
dealing of the brotherhood. 

Nor ought the question of a well fulfilled trust to be 
deemed secondary, when we would form an estimate of a 
religious system, after a century's trial. These high func- 
tions of supervision are ^dtal, and, indeed, normal to the 
whole detail of disciplinary administration. The experi- 
mental science, too, of divine things, as a special feature of 
Methodism, has never been given up. This is its theology 
tested, not propounded only, and abounding in spiritual 
symphonies and confessionals, which make its church pecu- 
liarly a community of friends. The office of Methodism, 
as a system, seems to be, both to hold forth the truth in its 
most simple and concentrate form, and to rear a people to 
give a living exposition of its divinity to the world. These 
two principles act upon each other, and, in combination, ex- 
hibit the true glory of Methodism. As it mainly struck up 
the light of evangelism in the last century, so it is now 
concerned in maintaining it, amidst many adverse omens. 

In this great work, its steadiness is now increasingly im- 
portant. As to the mode of its ministry, and the appro- 
priation of its agency, its one characteristic is practical 
intensity. Its eager and incessant demand is, for action 
from its people, but especially its ministers ; drawing upon 
them, even to exhaustion, yet in full accord with the spirit 
of the age, which in every department runs people out of 
breath. Its itinerancy is, indeed, better suited to an evan- 
gelizing outset, than to the work of a pastorate ; demanding 
inferior, or rather different, quahfications, but compensating 
this by the brevity of its labours, and the brisk circulation 



174 METHODISM. 

it keeps up in the community. Undoubtedly it contravenes 
nature in many points, and hence can hardl}'- become a 
permanent institute ; but it admirably comports with the 
genius of an union, converting gifts into a public treasury, 
instead of a private monopoly. Further, it sectionahzes 
life, greatly to the public advantage, but it has little sym- 
pathy with family interests, with citizenship, or old age. 
From the bustle and surface of its action, it seems to be 
more affluent in results, than a fixed ministry ; but it is far 
less quietly pervading and deep, in its hold upon the heart. 
It exceeds in breadth, but lacks in depth. It makes mar- 
j'iage only with the system, but in particulars it is a celibate. 
The founder of Methodism, by public document, formally 
constituted the church which bears his name, an unmixed 
polity, in a qualified sense, an hierarchy — having consigned 
to the men he had incorporated with himself, the double 
powers of teaching and rule. In this instance, also, his prac- 
tical simplicity was nothing else than a far-sighted sagacity ; 
a ministerial peerage, under the necessary conditions of 
voluntaryism, being, for all practical ends, equivalent to a 
mixed constitution, without entailing upon it the weakness 
of an heterogeneous embodiment. The jus divinum was 
not made the pivot of the polity, it was rather the issue of 
the simple idea of unity, whence a more elastic and uniform 
ordinance might go forth, than from two forces equipoised, 
but endangering collision. Besides, in an economy which, 
as popular, must needs in its progress aggregate a large 
democratic element, this arrangement seemed to afford the 
proper counterpoise. Democracy has its range assigned to 
it in other departments, rather than the legislative ; just as 
in the constitution of a human being, the reflective powers 
are different from the active, but in perfect concord with 
them. As the ministry is, in the order of the spiritual crea- 
tion, prior to the Church, though actually coextent with it, 
and has inherent in it the corresponding functions of teach- 
ing and rule, such a platform seems simply apposite. Hence 



POLITY IN ITS CONSTITUTION. iTS 

to subvert It by laic ascendency, involves a deposition of the 
pastorate from its just prerogatives, which, if joined to the 
actual force of democracy in local administration, would re- 
duce it to a mere instrument of popular will. 

This remark, however, is not pointed against a mixed 
constitution in the abstract, or under certain conditions, 
which may possibly work to advantage, or at least without 
detriment. It may be a judicious settlement of a church in 
its outset ; but viewed as an after element, intruded by a 
preternatural effort of democracy, would probably exceed 
all bounds, and destroy that which it sought to amend. 
The just claims of a people to church influence, cannot, 
even if it were willed by a governing power, eventually be 
repressed. Power being a gift like the ministry itself, and 
to be ranked among the '^ all things" which an apostle says 
are "for their sakes,'' both the piety and intelligence of 
the ministry forbid personal aggrandizement to become its 
end ; but, on the other hand, a denudation of all prerogative 
cannot be submitted to, without offence against conscience, 
and the sacredness of a trust held for, and from Christ; 
and were unions necessarily to entail such an evil, the ar- 
gument against their lawfulness would be demonstrative. 
But are the people therefore to be unduly depressed ? Are 
not their rights as well defined, and as sacred, as those of 
the ministry itself ? Without arrogating the governing power 
in a church, is not their will conditional to its exercise, re- 
strictive of it, and necessary to its wise and beneficent re- 
sults? How can the encroachments of despotism be ulti- 
mately maintained where the functions and even subsistence 
of the ministry depend upon popular will ? The measure of 
this liberty, however, must quadrate, as in the state, with 
the fitness of those who claim to exercise it, — on their in- 
telligence, moderation, and good principle. They should 
know then- system well — should take its bearings on the 
civil epoch of their lives — should be deeply versed in New 
Testament wisdom. 



176 METHODISM. 

Such conditions imply corresponding ones in the minis- 
ters, who must learn not only lohat they owe to system, hut 
what system oives to them, — ^that as its living impersonation 
and executive, they must adjust it to new times and circum- 
stances, breathing its sympathies as intensely as possible 
into the hearts of their people. Men are more povv^erful 
than mere institutions, however necessary as models of ac- 
tions. A ship is a necessary accompaniment of a crew ; but 
it can neither make *a voyage, nor gain a victory, v/ithout 
their living mastery and prowess. A state is a social regime, 
but it is little more than a paper programme without the 
patriotism, talents, and energies of the men to whom it is 
intrusted. 

The attached, but unfettered and able manhood of the 
ministry, can alone work Methodism. The image of their 
young and free devotedness, must radiate over its people, 
and be thrown back again upon itself. This action and re- 
action of the energy which springs from the ministry, will 
recruit it with gigantic force. Suspicion and altercation 
only serve to lock it up, or wear it away. Petty controversies 
on the meum and the tuum, may prevail over the broad in- 
terests of the commonwealth, and the vision of destiny be 
veiled to the blear-eyed perverseness of partizanship. 

The state of Methodism, as adapted either to sustain or 
advance its position, is a fact of the first importance, while 
an inquiry into it is, perhaps, neither easy nor delicate. In- 
troversion by a large community, is almost as rare and su- 
perficial an exercise, as that of an individual mind upon itself. 
Our ordinary habits are simply objective directions of our 
nature. Phenomena are seldom analyzed. Men are in 
general interested only in facts, — inquiries and criticisms 
being forborne, should prosperity flow on, and no checks and 
disturbances embarrass their afikirs. This, however, must 
be an unwise habit for beings to rest upon, who live on a 
theatre of change, where events, for the most part, are but 
advertisements for subtle, complicated, and latent causes. 



POLITY IN RELATION TO THE MINISTRY. IVT 

3ucli as concern, not the philosopher only to search out, 
but the clear-sighted, practical, man to descry. From this 
acumen alone issues all the prescience allowed to man ; but 
small as it is, (often yielding little more than guess, or at 
most, probability,) it is a precious province of preveniency, 
and a sort of predestinative faculty. The shadows of events 
(as the phrase is) are in truth their spiritual precursors — 
Platonic ideas, from which issued an universe. Without 
some knowledge of this kind, measures of public, as well as of 
private utility, may be born out of due season. Men are 
taken aback by the sudden sweep of agencies, generated in 
privacy, and grown gaunt under the shadows of the spiritual 
world. The crisis comes on at once, amidst the silence, im- 
potency, and confusion of ignorance. There is a sense, in 
which, as distinct from that of the mere ministry, watchmen 
may be said to stand upon the walls of Jerusalem ; spirits 
like that of the prophet, who said, " I stand continually in 
my ward whole nights," ready also to respond to the chal- 
lenge — "Watchmen, what of the night? The morning 
cometh, and also the night." Or who answer also to Solo- 
mon's description of a wise man, whose " heart discerneth 
time and judgment." 

These remarks bear on the spiritual analysis of Method- 
ism, as suggested by the facts of its condition. What then 
are those facts, and what their legitimate exposition ? Cer- 
tainly its general organization is scarcely short of perfection ; 
nor can its mass be viewed as shrunken, if but augmenting 
slowly. Its edifices have been multiphed, and its institu- 
tions shapen out in no mean proportions. Its pecuniary 
economics are usefully conceived, and faithfully dispensed. 
Both justice and mercy are combined in its recognitions of 
the claims of a disabled and superannuated pastorate ; and a 
necessarily stinted, but considerate dealing, is prescribed for 
the vsddow and the fatherless ; while contingent afflictions 
are not wholly unmedicated by its charity. In the stipend 
of the pastorate, the extremes of poverty and affluence are 

8^ 



ITS METHODISM. 

equally avoided. A decent competency is its very maximum ; 
but destitution is not in its vocabulary. In this arrange- 
ment, the spirit of a brotherhood is strikingly apparent; 
as near an aproach to equality as possible, being its fun- 
damental idea — ^the monastic and ascetic discipline alone 
excepted. 

Methodism offers no emolument either to its highest offi- 
cers, or its most distinguished servants. It holds no bribes 
for talent — no prizes for ambition ; of sinecures it knows 
nothing; and as far as church dowery is concerned, it is 
little else than a vow of perpetual poverty. Its ministry, 
if inferior to some in mental culture, and general accom- 
plishment, is not less distinguished by piety and effective 
qualifications ; such as, teaching power, force of character, 
and knowledge of mankind. Till recently, they were all 
but self-trained, possessing few adventitious aids ; but with 
developments of stronger manhood, showing a more strik- 
ing discrepancy with the weaker members of the brother- 
hood, but imparting an originality and force to their ministry, 
far more valuable than the most eliminated specimens of 
merely human discipline. Ardently attached to Methodism, 
regarding it almost as a moral homoeopathy, their steady and 
patient adherence to its impositions, however onerous, and 
in many cases trying, is characteristic, evincing the power 
of an union to magnetize its members throughout, and to 
render the species as the genus, set forth by an apostle, — 
'' None of us liveth unto himself." 

These remarks are borne out by the testimony of Me- 
thodist congregations, which, despite of the manifold com- 
petition of the day, and the adverse accidents of Methodist 
history, are, perhaps, more numerous now than ever. This 
is an evidence both of ministerial capacity, and integrity; 
possibly of more than this, of an impression that the 
primitive blessing attendant on Wesley's doctrine, Wesley's 
preachers, and Wesley's people, is yet far from being ex- 
pended. Yet what a dream is optimism applied to any 



POLITY MINISTERIAL REQUIREMENTS. 179 

human thing ! Or what better characteristic is there of 
church wisdom than that of even apostohc aspiration, *' for- 
getting those things which are behind, and reaching forth 
to those that are before ?" i 

Such is the present motto of society; nor must the 
ministry lag behind in the race. To an apostohc zeal must 
be added a susceptibility of impression from all surroundmg 
life, with a full blending of the lights of our times, in such 
harmony, as to render the pastorate powerfully pervading. 
A ministry on which the evening shadow gathers, belongs 
to a departing age, and is chiefly influential over its com- 
peers in cast and years. The morning Bfe of society de- 
mands a morning hght, to cast its inspiration and guidance 
over those who have yet to tread the mazy fields of the 
world. The truth, impersonated in sanctified advocates, 
should go out to the line of contact with the Hving mass, 
and rather be in advance, than require to be reminded that 
it is yet considerably in the rear. The youth of our churches 
particularly require a pastorate, whose very spell may 
cancel many baneful influences which set in upon them 
from without. They need able guidance amidst the perils 
of inexperience, and a pillar around which they may para- 
sitically entwine themselves, and rest, when harassed by 
the onsets of a meretricious scepticism. Disciples in general 
should know that the defence, as well as teaching of Chris- 
tianity, may be safely left with its authorized keepers ; who, 
if not always very learned or scientific, sufficiently appre- 
hend the connexions of these with religion, and how to 
explode fallacies, to repress vaunting, and to hold the Ther- 
mopylae of their faith against all the hosts of the foe. It 
may not be rejoined, that Revelation is fixed — science, pro- 
gressive ; that dogmatic teaching must therefore be a 
monotony, whose force lies in reiteration, emphasis, and 
passion ; that, as an ordinance of God, preaching is a grand 
specific, rather weakened by analysis, or by assimilation to 
modes of science, than dependent upon any such auxiliaries 



180 METHODISM. 

for its culmination. For it must not be forgotten, that if 
there be a rudiment in Christianity, of divine efficacy, 
there is also a perfection, which ranks it as the first phi- 
losophy ; that it is the veriest transcendentalism, because it 
sublimates both the moral and intellectual man together, 
scanning the whole pathway, and objects of existence, future 
as well as past ; and that, if nature itself be but a vast con- 
geries of facts, from which philosophy drinks in oracles, 
forms systems, and generalizes almost without limit, the 
Bible itself is nothing else than an historical collection of 
facts conveyed to us by divine testimony, and forming a 
nucleus of bounoless radiations to the eye of a di^dnely 
illumined reason. The existence and the aliment of piety, 
may indeed be drawn from the facts themselves, and their 
most simple deductions, just as life is drawn from the 
breasts of nature, to which all instinct turns itself; but a 
profounder and more versatile teaching must be needed in 
an age of books, and the power of a copious argument for 
revealed religion indispensable, when the grand struggle for 
the mental dominion of the world, is pitched between the 
disciples of the Bible, and the hosts which a sceptical phi- 
losophy, fanatical, but subtle and determined, musters to 
the battle. Mere assumption is now less safe than for- 
merly. The foundation must be sometimes laid afresh, and 
the rock shown on which the Church is built. The pious 
and earnest teacher will be liable to be regarded as a men- 
tal slave, or a dwarf; his orthodox phrase and imctional 
pathos, will place him in strange isolation from many an 
apparent worshipper, who secretly draws his principles 
from other springs, and merely conceals a deep apostasy 
from truth, by a few decencies and conventionalisms, which 
he may think it convenient to retam. It may be true that 
the halo of intellectualism is not the most divine aspect of 
the ministry, and that its influence, at best, is little more 
than negative; that the greatest power of it hes in the 
adaptation of a few great truths to the heart ; still the gift 



POLITY MINISTERIAL REQUIREMENTS. 181 

itself cannot be overvalued, as being that wisdom wbich 
conserves the simple and confiding piety of tlie Cburcli; 
and the might, which, like that of the apocalyptic angel, 
casts the chain about that Old Serpent that has deceived the 
nations, ere he shall be cast into the pit. The Church 
should have its champions in times of danger, who can 
speak with the enemy in the gate ; or draw the bow of 
steel ; or chase the spectral forms of error, as the shades 
vanish before the eyelids of the morn. 

Methodism, as a system, is, from its very energy and 
compass, too busy and miscellaneous in its mode of service. 
Its departments of duty are too numerous, to consist with 
the simplicity of well sustained action. The ministry 
suffers by being sectionalized, till its great primary function 
is seriously impaired, and is in danger of becoming too me- 
chanical, by attention to the detail of small things. Pulpit 
service is reduced to a mere item in the lengthy catalogue 
of church business ; and it is well, if it be not considered a 
very subordinate one too. But this indignity becomes re- 
taHative. Parsimony is bhght, the spell of the ordinance is 
broken, and trite teachings are recompensed in listless and 
dechning auditories. 

A feature something like a peculiarity of the day, as it 
respects Methodism, ought not to pass without notice — it is 
the greater reluctance manifested, than formerly, by its con- 
gregations, to pass from the outer sanctuary of its worship 
into the pale of its communion. The disposition to hear 
and to appreciate its theology, is much wider than the dis- 
position to pledge adhesion. In this is often found its most 
intransmutable element, imparting magnitude to its status, 
but impeding its advance. This seems to border upon mere 
conventionahsm, and to be nothing better than a slender pre- 
ference for one form of Christianity over another. It seems 
to intimate that the terms of Methodist communion are less 
congenial with the times ; that its discipline is either too 
pure, or too antiquated for its candidates ; or, that the spi- 



182 METHODISM. 

ritual force computed in its platform has so far receded, as 
to leave it without any present adequate support. Yet 
these are not merely the distinctive, but the vital forms of 
Methodism — the indices and bulwarks of its church being. 
To abandon or to lower the class-meeting, for example, 
would go far to abnegate the very principle which it em- 
bodies, and the supervision of membership which it has set 
up. In the computation of diminished force, (if such be 
the fact,) the ministry itself cannot escape scrutiny. With 
its general ability allowed, is it less specifically an awaken- 
ing and experimental agency ? Or, are the piety and in- 
telligence of those to whom the office of spiritual training 
is assigned, at all proportioned to so momentous a work ? 

But, however this may be determined, the creative and 
conserving forces of Methodism are not at par with each 
other. If even the power to arrest and subdue men be 
lowered, the power to retain them is still less. The re- 
ceived element is imperfectly assimilated, and far too much 
of it is thrown off as waste. Perhaps some emendations, 
rendering the conditions both of membership and office more 
stringent, would restore this balance so necessary to the 
compactness and extension of the body. The breadth of 
lay agency in Methodism, makes both the selection and the 
culture of it a matter of the first importance. The stan- 
dard of qualification should be kept up, not lowered, to 
meet a supposed working emergency ; nor its gates of office 
so widely opened as readily to pass the multitude of ap- 
phcants, always more ready to obtrude themselves into 
positions of publicity, than those who more intelligently 
ponder the difficulties and responsibilities pertaining to 
them. Through default, in this respect, weakness and ex- 
tension in Methodism must go hand in hand. Its character 
must deteriorate, and its mission be abridged of its fruits. 
Whenever, as now, new or modified combinations are 
sought for, and the births of speculation are as sudden as 
they are numerous, the sobrieties of practical suggestion 



CHURCH SANCTITY. 183 

are liable to be set aside. These oflfer no stimulant in com- 
parison with the blandishments of idealism ; but this fact 
commends the seasonableness as well as importance of such 
suggestions. The right direction and working of Method- 
ism, are of primary consequence ; its genius, rather than 
detail, is to be seized and transmitted ; nor can it value as 
fealty whatever would eschew the facts of its history, or 
invalidate its pledges to the world. 



CHAPTER IX. 
CHURCH SANCTITY. 

** The saints have their sovereignty, their distinction, their victories, 
their splendour -' * '' They are watched by God and angels, 
and are unseen of mortal sense and refinement." — ^Pascal. 

*< There is no happiness, no rationality, no virtue, no gracefulness, like 
the true Christian's." — ^Pascal. 

The tone and character of churches in general require to 
be elevated. Extending Christianity, however pure in its 
outset, is liable to corruption from the laws intended to 
give it ultimate prevalency in society. As it moves on 
from small beginnings and wins more territory, it exposes 
more surface to the action of adverse elements. It becomes 
less compact, less concentrate, less itself, than when sepa- 
rated and compressed by the massive alien substances sur- 
rounding it. Gaining more freedom, it is also more Hable to 
volatilize, and its stronger elements to escape. It offers more 
points of contact with the world, which become avenues, 
through which, too often, the poison of its principles and 
spirit is imbibed. The relations of hfe oblige to con- 
stant intercourse with unchristianized mind ; which, as in- 
dicative of its fearful prevalency, its ubiquitous presence, 
is in Scripture significantly called '* the world." 



184 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

Citizenship entails its duties and its perils to religious 
men. Customs are nothing else than human ordinances — 
social precepts. Example is a living, walking, talking law, 
whose despotism is absolute. Recreations, fashions, busi- 
ness, are in all their multitudinous varieties subject to its 
sway. The mind of the majority must bear social, as well 
as political rule. Men shrink as convicted culprits from its 
sentences ; its decisions thrill the man, and hurry him along, 
as does the planet which carries us all. What profound 
wisdom, what prescience, as well as love, does our Lord's 
prayer for his people breathe forth ! " I pray not that thou 
shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest 
keep them from the evil.'' And what coherence is there be- 
tween the prayer and the words which followed it ! — " sanc- 
tify them through thy truth;" containing, as they do, 
the only philosophy of the possible co-existence of two such 
societies, as the world and the Church. It is not local seve- 
rance, an immutable ritualism, or mere peculiarity of habit, 
that the prayer for keeping has respect to, as the means of 
its accomplishment. Nothing external is pointed at in the 
nature of a badge, as a constituent of separation ; or even a 
nationalism, such as was the palladium of ancient Israel. 
The Church was to be in the world, — impacted in every form 
of society under heaven, — to be a kingdom within a kingdom, 
as, in the prophet's vision, there was a ''wheel within a 
wheel." Christianity, in its outset, could not nationalize ; 
this was its ultimate, not its primary condition. How then 
could the Church be in the world, and yet be separate from 
it ? By its being sanctified through the truth. This is the 
only answer the question admits. 

The action of the world for evil upon the Church is chiefly 
twofold, — ^upon its morals and upon its spirit; upon its 
social virtue, and upon its devotion. True, it is a theatre 
for the display of both, but it is a perilous ordeal to each. 
The nature is still human, though declared not to be "of 
the world." It is feeble, accessible to temptation, strongly 



POINTS OF ASSAULT UPON IT. 185 

biased by the senses, easily infected by the contagion, that 
everywhere reigns in the abode of its hfe. Often is the 
man prone, by a fallacy of his reason, to sever his religious 
from his secular character ; his Sabbath duties, his prayers, 
his church proprieties, from the grosser avocations of the 
six days ; to walk as a man, rather than as a saint amongst 
men ; to lower himself to the existing standard of conduct 
around him, more than practically to protest against it. 
Thus, while disowning the supremacy of rehgion in inorals, 
he withdraws himself both from her shield and sun ; and, 
by not aiming higher than the world, in the things of the 
world, he is liable, as a retributory dishonour, to fall below it. 
In every possible relation and business of life, religion is, 
what the Bible terms it, " wisdom." It does not, indeed, 
supply what nature has denied, — a certain perspicacity of 
mind ; a lynx-eyed penetration, by which the whole hemis- 
phere of terrene things is surveyed ; a readiness and mas- 
tery of calculation on chances and probabiHties ; a prompt- 
ness to see and seize opportunities of advantage, to avoid 
or to repair a mischief, an indomitable energy, a pains-taking 
assiduity : — qualities which bear a liigh market value in the 
world, and which may be regarded as the keys to a sovereign 
position in society. But, if it does not equalize men, as 
men, — or, if a less obvious meaning of our Lord's words 
may be assigned to them, " the children of this world are, 
in their generation, wiser than the children of light ;" yet 
does it bestow more than compensation, in the principles 
which it implants, the rules which it makes paramount over 
the habits of its disciples, and the blessing which it insures 
from that Providence which often adds visible sanction to 
the doctrine, that " godliness is profitable unto all things." 
If it does not lead on in the race of enterprise, yet it cer- 
tainly dwells with prudence. It is the moderation which in- 
sures a healthy social action, midway between lethargy and 
the feverishness of uncontrolled worldliness. It gives forth 
pulsations properly timed, for sustained and comfortable 



186 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

action at every point of duty ; neither making man an in- 
cubus on society, nor a mere slave of the world. It bears 
a man less to wealth than competency ; to mediocrity of es- 
tate, more than to the baleful eminency of worldly greatness. 
It is a safe guide, though not an eager one ; its office is 
oftener to hold back, than to stimulate to brisker motion. 
Religion ever points to the great way-marks of principle, 
and enforces the supremacy of conscience over interest. 
It will not permit the moral man to become the minion of 
the secular, employed only to turn the wheel of fortune. 
This wisdom is absolutely proscriptive of all loose doctrines 
of expediency, and of all adventurous, gambling methods 
of compassing wealth. It can as little bless, as sanction, 
any course counter to its authority ; or hold fellowship with 
the "throne of iniquity," which, like the "abomination of 
desolation," is thus set up " in the holy place." 

It is in vain that either gospel grace, or gospel morals, 
are enunciated in the ordinances of Christ, and strict con- 
gregational exercises are steadily maintained, if the profes- 
sion of allegiance to religion be publicly contradicted by the 
dreadful emphasis of sinister facts. Shall not " circum- 
cision be counted uncircumcision," when the sign has no 
counterpart in the spirit, or phases of the character ? And 
can siich deception and treachery escape the vengeance of 
the last great day, which cannot even now screen itself 
from the indignant reprobation of our fellow mortals ? This 
woimd and dishonour of religion, it may be feared, is deep, 
and all but ineradicable. They have gone far to destroy 
the prestige of religion's name, and to renew the olden by- 
word and proverb of reproach. Moral judgments are easy 
and familiar to men utterly void of spiritual discernment ; 
nor can anything redeem saintship from the base surmises 
of w^orldly minds, or win respect for its hidden wisdom, but 
the exhibition of the holiest morals. 

The whole question of religion's reality, at least of its in- 
dividual impersonation, is committed, by the world, to a 



MODERATION — HOLINESS IN MORALS. 187 

practical issue on their own field of observation, — and this 
trial cannot be refused: the rehgious principle can, and 
ought to be, there, as everywhere, triumphant. This expe- 
riment is a social necessity ; and it is no unreasonable de- 
mand upon the Church, that this sign, at least, of its divine 
birth, should not be withholden by its children, when it 
challenges the faith and obedience of all men to the gospel, 
on pain of death. Nor is moral delinquency, in any of its 
varied forms, to be fully provided against by the discipline 
of the Church, however stringent in principle, and wholesome 
in effect. The primary and stronger security is found in 
the dominion of godliness in the heart. Self -keeping is a 
primary obligation, and is to be referred to the responsibi- 
lities of a nature graciously rectified. Church discipline and 
agencies cannot travel with men, to and fro, in every path 
of life, nor meet them at every step and turn they take. 
Men are consigned to the custody of their principles ; and, 
should these fail, no mere accessories can take their place. 
There can be no guarantee for the maintenance of a healthy 
moral action in rehgious men, but in their truthful adhesion 
to the great fundamentals of the gospel itself. This is the 
divine method of securing practical holiness, as its one 
cherished end. Moral uprightness is sanctification, so far 
as this grade of virtues is concerned, — these belong not to 
some unclaimed territory of manhood. They are not the 
inmost sanctuary of religion, but they pertain to its court, 
and " the glory'' rests upon them for beauty, as well as de- 
fence. They are, in great part, the "good works" which 
men are to see in this light, and so be made to glorify our 
*' Father which is in heaven." 

Again, the agency of the world may be as deteriorating to 
the devotion of the Church as to its morals. If it tempt to 
fellowship with it in adopting another standard of morals 
than the word of God, it allures to the fornication of its 
customs and pleasures, to the adoption of its tastes, senti- 
ments, and style of life, in opposition to the simplicity of 



188 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

Christian rules— the discipline bound upon disciples by 
the spirit and example of their Lord. These are designed 
to impart to them a cast very different from an artificial, or 
self-imposed restraint, from either personal or communal 
eccentricity, from the petty enactments of sects, or schools, 
founded only on ex-parte views of truth, not seldom on 
positive error. This is altogether a heavenly type of man, 
the development of a higher nature, not the artifice of 
a devotee, nor strained efforts toward heavenly measures, 
by a self-made saint, in order to win public homage. It is 
the heavenly citizen, as he is, a living image of eternal 
things, a representation, in human phase, of divine princi- 
ples, of the far and inscrutable forms of immortal beauty. 
In the disciple two worlds meet, and intersect each other, 
mingling their several properties to form one character, 
— "of twain, one new man;" while the earthly man is 
made the shrine of the heavenly, the mysterious dwelling 
place of the Triune Glory. It is the full subordination of 
the lower to the higher nature, so combined, which brings 
out the perfect type of the disciple. Everything that dis- 
turbs, or tends to subvert this relation, obscures and spoils it. 
The complete inversion of this prmciple, is the law of 
the world, hence stigmatized in Scripture, as that of *' the 
flesh ;" that is, the simple predominance of sense in man — 
the lowest possible condition of life, — as implying an utter 
subserviency of the godlike powers of humanity to external 
things. This compliance of the whole nature of man, with 
the laws that bind it to the world, proves the complete di- 
vorce of the reason and moral powers from their own native 
sphere of things; their bent is like the "spirit of the 
beast," "downwards." This minifies man inexpressibly. 
It virtually annihilates the divine image within hun, and, 
cancelling the bond of his immortality, strikes him out of 
the high category of existence, in which angels stand as 
his peers. Life becomes a dream; "vanity of vanities," 
nothing. Yet is this scene as sensibly truthful, as the body 



NOT ASCETICISM. 189 

and its surrounding materialism, vividly decorated, full 
of interests and excitements. Here the world of men dwell, 
a-nd pay their homage to the temple that surrounds them, 
rather than to the invisible that fills it. The proximate 
holds supremacy over the remote ; and the condition of a 
whole existence resembles that of a cone, resting upon its 
point, instead of its base. 

It is a leading property of spiritualism in religion to 
attemper, as it intermingles the duplex forces which meet 
in our restored nature ; to restrain either from unmodified 
dominion, yet, forbidding the flesh to become ascendant. 
The regency of the latter, is the moral annihilation of our 
manhood ; the absolute preponderance of the former, would 
be overwhelming to the earthly man ; " the powers of the 
world to come" were so disproportionate to those of the 
present, as to strip the surrounding system of the interest 
which existing relations to it imply. This would amount to 
a virtual abrogation of every law of individual existence, 
inconsistent with the ^probationary nature of our present 
state. Hence becomes most manifest, that the evangelic, 
and the ascetic mortifications, are altogether different cour- 
ses of discipline. The one implies only local separation 
from the world, or the super-induction of alien habits in the 
midst of it — it being to society, what an amputated, or pal- 
sied member, is to the body; sympathy between it, and 
the living frame, has ceased, as also the sway of volition, 
which all other members of the body obey. On the contrary, 
evangelical virtue is charged with hurnanity ; it is reciprocal 
and expansive; in some sense, the awakened life of the 
soul, its uplifted wand over all the sphere of nature that 
surrounds it. Its vision is widened, and its passion en- 
larged. The invisible lends its lustre to the visible ; and the 
spiritual, the divinest element of good, compensating the 
inherent deficiency of the creature, greatly enhances it, 
diffusing its own plenitude over the whole territory of life. . 

But this spirit of evangelism, while it enlarges humaa 



190 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

capacity, refines it also. If it does not make men " as gods, 
knowing good and evil," it exalts them greatly above their 
fellows. It does make them lords over their brethren ; and 
renders the brief scriptm*e of St. Paul, a grand complimen-' 
tary axiom, " the world is yours.'' It purges the soul of 
the childish temper, as well as of the idolatry of the fleshly 
nature. It bestows an universal continency, a manly inde- 
pendence, of which other mmds know nothing. " I know," 
said one, " how to be abased, and how to abound ; every- 
where, and in all things, I am instructed, both to be full, 
and to be hungry, both to abound, and to suffer need : I 
can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me." 
This spirit neither covets wealth, nor dreads poverty; it 
neither worships the world, nor despises it. It estimates 
worldly station by its implied accession to the duties of a 
moral trust, and the superior power it confers of rehgious 
usefulness. Mere self-indulgence cannot be a Christian end. 
When lawful, its pleasure is gratitude, and its fruit, praise. 
All its modes and measures too, are subject to the rulings 
of a divinely illuminated understanding ; they are ordinances 
of heavenly reason. 

The great fact, that life, as a whole, is simply a means to 
an end beyond itself, suggests a thousand applications of 
this truth to the conduct of human affairs. This one prin- 
ciple hallows the whole domain of sense. It dictates so- 
briety. It ordains a religious euphony. It separates the 
world from the evil that is in it. It halts, where confor- 
mity with it is sinful, either in principle or in act. It 
judges of acts, in themselves indifferent, by their tendencies 
and implications. It is wary, or, as inspiration calls it, 
"circumspect." It can forego a pleasure, or sacrifice an 
advantage, but cannot slight an obligation, or "break one 
of the least of the commandments." It discriminates be- 
tween the barely lawful and the expedient, that is, the 
becoming, or useful — the extreme bound of liberty, and the 
most commendable use of it. 



ITS REFINING AND PERVADING VIRTUE. 191 

Religion cherishes no morbid sensitiveness to the honour 
of character, but a wise estimate of the force of pubhc 
opinion. It is sagacious, even to anticipate pubhc judg- 
ment on particular acts, and to regard what is of " good re- 
port." Christianity is a rule of manner s, as well as of 
morals — it is supreme over both. Its personal and relative 
aspects are all characteristically its own. Whatever it 
adopts of the usages of life, it sanctifies ; whatever it re- 
pudiates, is evil. Whatever cannot be made to yield homage 
to the heavenly nature and rule in man ; whatever tends to 
deface its beauty and impair its action ; whatever cannot 
be subject to the sovereignty of the one grand idea of not 
living to ourselves, can find neither approval nor fellow- 
ship in the mind of a disciple. That divine birth which 
gives mastery over Satan, gives victory also over the world. 
It arms for persecution. It welcomes the cross. It lives 
most vigorously, when dying to all things aroimd it. It 
can never symbolize with the world in the style of its sen- 
timents, in the range of its tastes, in the cares, sorrows, 
joys, with which its shadows incessantly agitate them. It 
is as little allured by the entertainments of the world, as 
they are by the pleasm-es of religion. The laws of a loftier 
sphere cancel those of earth, subordinating its influences to 
divine service, instead of allowing them a lordship over us ; 
these are surveyed as the passing appendages of existence, 
instead of being our portion and end. 

This characteristic of evangeHsm should be indeUbly en- 
graven on the Church, and put forth in full strength before 
the world. Its reaUty must not be vindicated to public 
scepticism, by the sanctimonies of phrase or of habit, but 
by the authority of deeds, from which there is no appeal. 
It must make itself seen and felt by the only ruling power 
among men — high-bearing action, faultless and forceful char- 
acter ; fearless of scorn, as heedless of applause ; imbued 
with a spirit of true honour; keenly jealous of religion's 
rights, and deeply aggrieved by her wrongs. 



192 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

Much of the service of a disciple appertains to the mere 
influence of his character, to the cast and style of his living, 
before the world. This is necessarily a more general ele- 
ment of power than any other, and conditional to a more 
specific action on behalf of religion's interest in the world. 
It is a constant emanation, as fragrance from a flower, or 
as hght from the sun. It is subtle and pervasive, the savor 
of Christ, borne where the ministry and institutes of evan- 
gelism never penetrate. It is the spiritj rather than the 
public embodiment of religion, pervading society ; teaching 
and testifying by means of men of every grade and capa- 
city, all the more telling as it is unofiicial, unprescribed, and 
spontaneous ; an outpouring of zeal from the fountain of a 
hallowed nature, and veritable delineations of an inward 
law. This produces efiects, endlessly accumulative of good, 
though not seen of men, but reserved for the declarations 
of the last dread day. It is thus that the oracles of Chris- 
tian truth are echoed in the heights and depths of the 
world. The salt has not lost its savor, but is everywhere 
inlaid, and its action becomes ceaselessly assimilating. The 
sanctuary distributes its streams through many channels, 
and their course wends far from itself. Its people become 
its guardians and depositaries, charged with its doctrines, 
and conductors of its blessings. They illustrate its origin, 
and give amplitude to its dominion Every family and in- 
dividual, intent on reflecting this character, cannot but be a 
profitable acquisition to the Church. They uphold the 
honour of religion in the world, silence the gainsayers, and 
draw many to the uplifted standard of the gospel. They 
are fellow-helpers of the truth. They remove hindrances 
cast in the way by unworthy professors. They add con- 
fidence and power to the ministry. They raise the standard 
of public judgment, and array the conscience of the sinner 
against his ways. The Church becomes more august in her 
public mien, and her sons more honourable, as they appear 
more holy. Her invitations, reproofs, and warnings, are 



CONDITIONAL TO PKOSPEKITY. 193 

not doggedly debated against by the proud moralist, or the 
unconverted listener to her teachings, setting himself in 
favourable comparison with the average virtue of her peo- 
ple. The distance is now seen and felt, there is a great 
gulf fixed between them ; they are not only distanced m 
comparative goodness, themselves being judges, they are 
condemned by the light thus brought upon them. Grace 
is felt to be a reality, by their own lack of it ; and the ob- 
ligations and sanctions of the faith, wax into the great 
duties and prospects of existence. This separate estate of 
the Church from the world — the proof of its sanctification, 
and its safeguard from surrounding evil, is to its moral 
habits, what health is to the human frame — the absence of 
all disturbing and noxious influences from the seat and 
functions of life. 

Again, it is conditional to vigorous action, to a systema- 
tic putting forth of its heavenly endowments to their true 
ends, and with most prosperous results. A Church, en- 
feebled by adulterous combinations with the world, must 
be comparatively inert. It cannot be roused into becoming 
effort to advance religion, because it has become insensible 
to its own degeneracy, and the surpassing value of the 
objects for which its exertions are demanded. It bears, in 
its bosom, no yearnings for souls, no stirring sense of their 
worth and danger, no adequate views of the office of Christ, 
or of the greatness of his salvation. Its ordinances, un- 
supported by the influences of character, and of deep per- 
sonal devotion, are bereft of their proper evangehcal con- 
ditions to the conveyance of blessing. Its routine palls by 
sameness, or depresses by the barrenness of its results. 
Personal duties are neglected, or performed carelessly. 
The tastes and interests of men are in the world> rather 
than in the Church. They have little love for her, who 
ought to be their '' chief joy." They yield to her neither 
pecuniary revenues, nor personal services. Her Sabbaths 
are not '' delights," nor her ordinances '' wells of salvation." 

9 



194 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

Men cease to regard the Churcli as their one great interest 
in hfe. They feel no obligation, they discharge no trust ; 
and religion is left to languish, more through the defection 
of the hearts of its peo|)le, than the diminution of numbers 
in its communities. There is not sufficient thought, feeling, 
carefulness, prayer, bestowed on the gospel commonwealth 
to insure its prosperity. Individual life is not instinct, as 
it ought to be, with Church sympathies and obligations ; it 
is not replenished with its inspirations, and interlarded with 
the business of a spiritual, as well as of a secular calling. 
Where, and what, is the influence of the majority of Chris- 
tian professors on society ? and what is the amount of their 
close, pains-taking endeavour, to bless their generation, and 
to build up the Church ? 

Redemption unto God, is redemption from the world ; 
not a discharge from its concerns, but from its spirit and 
bent. It is the sanctification of all motive and pursuit 
whate¥er. It is preservative from all idolatry and defile- 
ment, in following out the general business of life ; and is 
the only safeguard against contagion in that sphere, where 
the mind of the world cannot but bear rule. But religion 
has, at least, its residuary claims on its people, who are all 
Levites, by the word which is '^ after the law ;" and all 
participate, in various degrees, in the priesthood of the last 
covenant. They are all the Lord's anointed, and have, of 
need, "somewhat also to ofter." "Ye shall be named," 
says the prophet, " the priests of the Lord : men shall call 
you the ministers of our God." This lofty distinction from 
the mass of men cleaves to all Christians. They are both 
the temple and priesthood of the living God ; and this de- 
votement, by profession, and by the Spirit's sanctification, 
is to be an ascendant influence in forming their characters, 
a halo investing the man everywhere, but brightest in the 
sphere of Church duty. 

This is the only rule of safety, and of perfection likewise. 
It binds every member of the Church to seek the public 



CO^^DITIONAL TO PKOSrEKITY. 1D5 

good, and to view himself as ^>iiiledged person to the cause 
he has espoused. The great principles of Christianity re- 
quire to be thus practically taken up, and their whole effect 
zealously sought for. Benefits must not be separated from 
duties, nor receipts from contributions. Individual respon- 
sibility inheres according to gifts and opportunities ; and, 
though not self-imposed, is accepted as the consequence of 
a chmxh condition and church blessings. And who could 
desire, even could he claim, a dispensation from such ser- 
vices? What bond could be dear, or mighty, should re- 
demption's yoke be cast away from us ? From what law 
beside, can our nature's rectitude be made to issue ; or, the 
rewards of heaven crown the epochs of our immortahty? 
And what are the ultimate proofs of an evangelical pos- 
session, if the evidences of sanctification fail, and the for- 
feiture of blessing be proclaimed by the absence of appro- 
priate fruits? It may not be concealed, that religious de- 
clension, and the disheartening of its people, owe much of 
their origin to the want of a vigorous pvhlic, as well as 
moral conscience, and a thoroughly spiritual character in 
the Church. The social intermixture between the Church 
and the world has bred confusion, and now" begins to spread 
dismay. The hues of demarcation, which the gospel clearly 
lays down, have been passed by those whose jealousies 
ought to have maintained them, as the palladium of their 
own safety, and the sanctuary for the world. A trust has 
been betrayed, an advantage yielded up, and results of in- 
calculable moment have been lost. In the process of long 
and silent deterioration, the world and the Church have 
been brought face to face, mutually sm-prised by how small 
an interval they are suadered, and by how few points with- 
held from entire amalgamation. What is urgently de- 
manded is, that the world and the Church each keep its 
own place, and exhibit truthful countersigns ; that the 
Church be fully convinced that the world is the world still, 
and that coalition is impossible, but by its own apostasy ; 



196 CHURCH SANCTITY. 

that when no fiery trials and ordeals of blood are assigned 
to it; when recumbent in security, and fully enfranchised 
in liberty, the primitive badge of its divinity and heritage 
of its bu'th have disappeared ; that when no persecutions 
waste it, and no martyred heroism stands forth against the 
legions of its adversaries, nevertheless its practical sanctity 
is not to be dimmed, nor its duties to society to be abridged. 
She is to vie with her more renowned epochs in examples 
of saintliness; she is not to be corrupted by peace, who 
triumphed in war, or to shape out of her trophies the 
monument for her grave. Spring time is not to be less 
auspicious to the vine than winter. It should not fail in its 
leaf, or its clusters, after it has survived the frost and the 
pruning knife. Religion's own internal fire should conserve 
its purity, and show its glory, without the purgatory of 
external sufferings. Equally pure, it should be more dif- 
fusive, because fully liberated; more abundant in works, 
because not wasted by afflictions. Why should opportuni- 
ties be less precious when abundant and Avarranted, than 
when snatched from the oversights of oppression, and en- 
vironed with the terrors of confiscation, imprisonment, and 
death ? Or why should the work be shghted, which may 
be pursued without annoyance, if not with applause, when 
men have braved for it the sorest hardships, and loved it 
better than their lives ? Of all works beneath the sun, re- 
ligion only is subject to no declension in importance, to no 
change of relation, or deprivation of prerogative. It is an 
unvarying, permanent, universal necessity for every man 
alike. Its appearances and conditions may greatly alter, but 
its nature and bearings are the same. Its glory is neither 
derived from persecution, nor from gase ; from the number 
of its disciples, or the endowments of its advocates. 
Whether shielded or proscribed ; immured in dungeons, or 
driven into exile; whether crowned with immunities, or 
welcomed to the homes, and by the benedictions of a na- 
tion's people, — it is the same holy, humble, benevolent, self- 



RELIGION ITS ACCIDENTAL PHASES. 197 

denying thing — unchanging as its Author, and faithful to 
its mission. Of the many names which have been appended 
to its forms and operations, it has adopted none later than 
the one of its birthday, and correspondent with its baptismal 
rite. Like Israel, it has passed through fire, and through 
water, to its present lot in the world. It has experienced 
every vicissitude which could either corrupt or purify it. 
It has been put to every test which Providence has per- 
mitted, and the powers of evil furnished. It has tasted of 
every cup, and been familiarized with every estate of earth. 
Its history has been a strange record of starts, pauses, and 
retrogressions — of unfolding glories, and sudden obscura- 
tions ; but its nature is ever independent of its fortunes, and 
of its people. As a revelation of God to man, and his or- 
dinance for human restitution, it reflects his moral image as 
it exists, and reposes on the foundations of his administra- 
tion, which it is intended to unfold and perfect, just as 
identically as these are in operation, throughout all ages. 
It revokes neither promise nor command. It neither de- 
poses law, nor stints grace. Its ordinances are immutably 
fixed, its aspects are all simply administrative. Exposition, 
overture, and enforcement, are the chartered duties of its 
ministry ; submission, reception, conformity, transmission, 
the great behests upon its people. But what Christianity 
is, as an abstraction, is one thing ; and what it is as a human 
development, another. The same firmament is chequered 
by varying atmospheric temperaments. Its lofty arch, its 
marine and azure, its lunar glow, or starry peerings, do not 
ever show; nor the same sun always look down from his 
lofty chamber in bridegroom beauty, but, swathed in haze 
and cloud, gives mightier demonstration of his prerogatives, 
than when shining in his strength ; and gathers a deeper, if 
not so enraptured a homage, from all beneath him, than 
when his gifts are unrestrained. 



198 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 



CHAPTER X. 
CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

** How sliould faith triumpli in tlie apprehension of the absolute im- 
mensity and omnipresence of the blessed Spirit, by which this great work 
is to be wrought and done in the world!" — John Howe. 

"Is it not strange that, in a Christian country there are many at a loss 
to conclude whose work this is, whether the work of God or the work of 
the devil ? and that because it is attended with a mixture of error." — 

JOXATHAN EdWAEDS. 

" God be praised, there were such disorders as these, and well would 
it be for us were our religious assemblies frequently inteiTupted by such 
disorders."— R. Hall. 

Eevival, is a fuller life bestowed on the Cliurcli in general, 
or on some portion of it ; and cannot but imply a visitation 
of grace to the surrounding world. It is the quickening of 
souls dead in sins, and the exaltation of such as do live, to 
*'the heavenly places, in Christ Jesus." It creates both 
intensity, and extension of dominion. Its effects are puri- 
fication and increase, a fulness of individual possession, and 
a multiplication of converts to the gospel. It is a larger 
measure of the "great salvation " to the people of the Church, 
and a redundancy of the heavenly baptism shed on them, 
to the world in general. It makes pious minds more quick- 
sighted in divine things ; gives vividness to their apprehen- 
sions of Christ, and of his kingdom. It greatly enlarges 
their affection toward Him, toward his people, his service, 
and interest in the world. It renders them more heavenly- 
minded, simple, childlike, humble. It redeems them from 
worldliness, carelessness, pride, and self-seeking, and tends 
to make them all, according to their several capacities and 
conditions, marked examples of rehgion. It is emphati- 
cally the Redeemer's coming to Zion, as the fire of the refiner, 
and the soap of the fuller, who, as Lord of his temple, pu- 



DIVINITY SEEN IN THEIR EFFECTS. 199 

rifies it, and the whole body of Leviles appertaming to it, 
" that they may offer to the Lord an offering in righteous- 
ness/' By revivals, the spiritual are made doubly spiritual ; 
the lukewarm, zealous; indolent and heartless professors 
are roused from their false security ; the wavering become 
decided, and the weak, strong. 

By revivals, that is done suddenly and powerfully, which 
ordinarily remains undone, or, at best, proceeds but tardily. 
The characteristic demarcations of moral condition, of long 
continuance, and all but indelibly stamped, are at once 
effaced, and whole cons^reo-ations seem blended and recast 
by a sovereign grace from " on high." The most stubborn 
natures become pliant ; the most coy and shrinking, bold 
in confession, and prompt to every pious undertaking. The 
most cold and rationalistic temperaments, show the glow- 
ings of a deep inward fire ; pride is exchanged for lowli- 
ness, and the cynic himself is turned into an imploring 
penitent. In fact, the power of God is made extraordina- 
rily manifest. It pervades the whole church. It converts, 
and transforms, at once. It wounds and heals, with equal 
sovereignty. It moves minds, as the blast does the trees 
of the wood, and bovfs them dovrn, as by the voice of tlie 
Lord, " full of majesty," which '' discovereth the forests, 
or divideth the flames of fire." 

The characters of these operations, prove their origin. 
There is a large individual advance, though of very diflfe- 
rent degrees, in Christian holiness. There is an infusion 
of equal sanctity and joy, in behevers' hearts. Religion 
now holds a perfect mastery over them. They are now 
fully '' redeemed unto God." Practical godliness, in all 
its branches, is vigorous ; there is no taint of worldhness, 
either in character or in temper. The shrine of manhood 
is irradiate with the indwelling glory of truth and grace 
— the very image and fulness of Jesus Christ. There is 
a fresh outbreak of spiritual life, a bounding of it onward, 
and upward, to a degree wonderfully beyond its ordinary 



200 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

measures of progress. The powers of the economy of grace 
seem to reveal themselves analogously to those of the king- 
dom of nature; themselves the favourite emblems by 
•which prophecy foreshadowed them. '* I will plant in the 
wilderness, the cedar, the shittah-tree, the myrtle, and the 
olive-tree. I will set in the desert, the fir-tree, and the 
pine, and the box-tree together ; that they may see, and 
know, and consider, and understand together, that the hand 
of the Lord hath done this, and the Holy One of Israel 
hath created it.'' 

Revival then is to be distinguished from reform in 
religion. The first denotes an inward and spiritual effect ; 
the last, an external restitution. The one is symbolized by 
the re-kindling of the altar's fire, or the restored effulgence 
of the golden lamp; the other, by the removal of idols, 
and pollutions, from the sanctuary. The one is greater than 
the other, as being the revelation of the Divine glory ivithin 
the house ; the other is simply the re-consecration of 
it, or the remodelling of its w^orship. The one is to the 
other, as the letter to the spirit, the body to the soul. 
The one is preparatory, the other perfecting. The one is a 
human work, the other exclusively divine. Reform im- 
plies, either a return to primitive principles and usages, 
after a long, and disastrous departure from them ; or, in a 
secondary sense, it may mean emendation only of what 
exists ; the modification of a system on the whole good ; 
a more skilful distribution of its means to their proper ends ; 
or an extended application of them to measures of advance : 
in either sense, a reform is often urgent, in some instances 
indispensable. The effects of time, and human agencies, on 
the purest institutions, may be almost uniformly detected. 
The encroachments of the world on the Church become but 
too visible : on the one hand, abandonment ; on the other, 
adhesion, silently, but surely progressing, effectuate 
changes as great, and far more permanent, than any sud- 
den inroads. They raise no alarm, they call forth no re- 



REVIVAL AND REFORM — DIFFERENT. 201 

sistance. They are all the more steady in their applica- 
tion, as they are slow ; not the offspring of external, but of 
moral causes, identified ^vith the characters of the age, or 
rooted degeneracy of the Church. Of this condition, in- 
sensibility to the doctrine and warning of facts, is a chief 
features ; a settled repugnance to dispassionate review, or 
fair comparison of primitive days with the present. Pro- 
gression is the darling fallacy which all agree to foster; 
while external facts are chiefly adduced, to establish the 
wished for conclusion. 

But the whole case of a Church must be carefully examined, 
before its relative condition can be wisely affirmed ; the ac- 
cordance of its forms with its principles, of its workings 
with its primitive type and genius. Its primitive vocation 
and features must be pondered, and its power analyzed. Its 
successes must be accoimted for ; and a strict keeping with 
its facts and principles, be made the regulating spirit of all 
its ulterior modifications. 

Reform, in the worship of a system, for example, must 
not amount to a grafting upon it of something foreign to 
its nature. It must be simple development ; or, to pursue 
the figure, mere direction and pruning, which are attempted 
— Christianity no more demanding uniformity of worship, 
than speech demands a universal language. The same ob- 
servation may be extended to the discipline, usages, and 
agencies of a church. These are idiosyncratic; they are 
the proper indices of a species, all belonging to the same 
genus. Nor is it impertinent, as an illustration of the com- 
parative aspects of churches, to apply the apostle's language, 
affirmative of distinctions in the same church, *' having there- 
fore gifts, difiering one from another ;" or elsewhere, ''now 
there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit." These 
peculiarities should not be effaced, they are types of a com- 
mon evangelism, of great utility; as the vessels of gold, 
silver, and earth, in a great house, *' some to honour, some 
to dishonour." 

9^ 



202 CHURCH visitatioxs. 

Denominationalism, may express secondary truths of great 
practical worth to society ; may concentrate some subsidiary 
principles, or influences of evangelism, not possessed by all 
alike. It may become the organ of some feeling, or sym- 
pathy of humanity ; of some solitary or deeper truth, which 
the many overlook. It may show some feature of apostolic 
Christianity, in bolder relief, in more delicate proportion, 
and in fuller harmony. These separate contributions may 
bring out the Divine image in perfection, or the evangelic 
economy in its impress and operative capacity, with superior 
effect ; by sect combination, rather than by amalgamation. 
Each should therefore be itself. The type should be clear 
and perpetual, else their particular embodiments of truth 
will disappear, hke the forms and fashions of the surround- 
ing world. This may, indeed, be the design of Providence, 
but even this consideration may be regarded as a predes- 
tination, hinging on unfaithfulness and corruption. 

Names and moulds of evangelism may be lost in some far 
more perfect embodiment, yet reserved to grace, and bless 
a future age. They may not, they ought not, to surcease, 
as death, in the corruption of the grave ; rather they should 
survive in more glorious mien, following the ascending track 
of existence, for w^hich every economy of divine wisdom 
gives space, till our feeble gaze is lost in the distance of 
their elevation. 

Revival is to be separated from the external resources of 
a church, from the decencies of profession, or even the pre- 
valence of pure doctrine over its multiform antagonisms. 
The proper working of revival is, indeed, outward. It is, 
and must be, growth, because it is life. It is the swell and 
triumph of life over its barriers, both in the Church and the 
world. It is omnipotent to seize, and to assimilate ; eager 
for onset and for conquest. Its benediction, from the Triune 
Name, is, "be fruitful, and multiply." Extension, occu- 
pancy, universality, are its own behests, — the full expression 
of its rights, and of its power. Yet these may be altogether 



THE rSES OF DENOMINATION ALISM. 203 

unrelated to it, and factitious. These material creations, 
these outward symbols, are all human things. The physical, 
the economic, the intellectual in religion, are things furnished 
by man. He can scheme, set up, and maintain, religious 
systems, as he does political ones, and may thus express his 
wisdom, taste, and power ; but " the powers of the world 
to come" lie beyond his control, except as he recognises 
them practically and prayeifiiUy, subordinating all his ma- 
terial arrangements to the authority of the Truth, and the 
law of the Spirit. If his views are bounded by the adapta- 
tion of systems, if he rest in the wisdom of his plans, and the 
perfection of his work, or, if he commits the interests of his 
religion simply to human keeping, and the operation of the 
ordinary laws which pervade all human intercourse, and all 
human bosoms, he stops short, as much of the nature, as of 
the e7ids of religion. It is no longer a divine, but a human 
thing. There is still the object of religion — God ; there is 
still the subject of rehgion — Man ; but there is no birth, nor 
breath, nor substance in it ; there is no union between them, 
no intercourse, recognised because felt. Nothing in man is 
greater than himself ; he is never refreshed, and sublimated, 
by the communion of his spirit with its Fountain. Congre- 
[Rational religion, too, is a flat performance, void of inspira- 
tion and life. There is no access sought to '' the mercy-seat '' 
in its prayers, no incense ascends in its praises, no soul-melody 
wafted in its songs. The conversion of sinners is not sought 
by its ministry, nor the edification of saints by its ordinances. 
Heligion is lowered to a public conventionalism, in which all 
parties rest, as the acquittal of an obligation, without respect 
to its proper character and results. It may lack, indeed, 
every symbol and element of superstition, but it lacks also 
its charm. It may possess every external feature of evan- 
gelism, but it shows no life. It is a church, in the sense of 
a collection of professed worshippers, but it is no part of the 
body of Christ ; for no law of its existence reveals the mys- 
tery of an union with Him. 



204 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

Revival is spiritualism in its strength : it shows little of 
man, but much of God. It is seen in the beauty of hoh- 
ness, the deep-toned life of congregational worship, the out- 
breakings of sanctuary glory ; not in the parade of circum- 
stance which men regard as religion, or the monumental 
effigies which they rear to her praise, confounding these with 
her living essence. Its very name is alien, where orthodoxy 
is boasted, and prescription pleaded. It is stigmatized as 
imposture, or ridiculed as enthusiasm ; a reproach to reason, 
an enemy to virtue. It is dreaded as an epidemic more fatal 
than the plague, — vulgar even to profanity, or Hcentious 
to disgrace. It is not regarded as even error in her graver 
moods, but, excited to wildness, a satyr in his dance, or 
bacchanalian in his orgies ; the cup of its enchantments is 
more deadly than that of the harlot, and its abominations 
more shocking, if less veiled, than hers on whose forehead 
is written "mystery." It is abhorred as a mere revel of 
abused passions ; a whim of sectarianism, itself a laboratory 
of all spiritual ills ; the apocalyptic pit opened, from which 
issued the smoke and the frogs, to darken and plague the land. 
• But not only does the worldly rehgionist caricature the 
movement we call a revival, others are, in many instances, 
unreasonably averse to it. It is often regarded by men, 
not enemies to spiritual religion, with suspicion and alarm. 
They are sincerely, but excessively, jealous of the honour 
of religion ; though, perhaps, this often means only the pub- 
lic status of their own community. They dread the scandal 
it gives to the world ; or they shrink from the over pub- 
licity which it attaches to the cause of religion in a neigh- 
bourhood; or they fear lest it should evaporate in noisy 
ebullition, rather than a well-governed expression of religi- 
ous feeling ; lest it should be spurious, consequently dama- 
ging, — ephemeral, consequently bringing on a collapse. 
Their habits, as religious men, are invaded, their views dis- 
regarded, their tastes offended. They are alive to their 
share individually in church responsibility to public opinion, 



RATHER DEPRECATED THAN SOUGHT. 205 

and to the risk implied in the production of an extensive ex- 
citement, in minds of every variety of intelligence and moral 
condition. They do not separate the operation itself from 
its accidents ; nor appreciate its advantages as a set off 
against its many possible disparagements. Not regarding 
the work itself as paramount to every other, they do not 
overlook the concomitants that human folly may bind to 
it. An efficient and almost neutral state of the Church, is 
preferred to one that invests it with new powers, and places 
it before the world in an aggressive attitude. Reduction 
and enfeeblement may be sincerely deplored ; but comfoii; 
is taken in the prerogatives of a sovereignty which reserves 
" the times and seasons " in its own power, instead of an en- 
lightened consideration, and a vigorous application of evan- 
gelic, published, chartered remedies to existing evils. In a 
declining state of the Church, reasons are rather sought out 
to induce acquiescence in it as inevitable ; while faith, in its 
resources, is lowered to a positive diffidency, and the tone 
of feeling is correspondingly humbled. It is flat and unenter- 
prising : all agencies are pervaded by torpor, — they become 
intermittent and powerless. Results are scarcely aimed at, 
because not hoped for. Duty (if performed at all) is re- 
garded as an end, rather than as a means, when disjoined 
from successful effort. 

The reward of toil is its aliment and strength. It rein- 
forces the power which would otherwise expend itself, re- 
turnmg its force as an effect, to give additional momentum 
to each successive stroke of the agency that produced it. 
It is hke the seed reappearing with increase in the harv^est, to 
be returned to the earth with still gi'eater prospect of mul- 
tiplication. This law of progress in the Churcli is essential 
to its welfare ; and, whenever arrested, should, by all proper 
measures, be set free to operate its own results. No church 
must be inert. Its existence is staked upon action: this is 
at once the evidence of its life, and the means of its increase. 

Every institute of evangelism embodies practical truth. 



206 CHURCH visitations. 

The Churcli itself rests upon it. This originating idea 
must therefore be maintained and expanded ceaselessly. 
This is the wisdom of the Mind that gave it being ; and it 
must radiate in unsuppressed brightness, active and quench- 
less as heaven's own light. Personal rehgion is powerfully 
influenced by it. Cohesion and aggregation are equally se- 
cured to it. The soul of the Church, like that of the body, 
has a felt universality of presence ; every member shares the 
consciousness of a common hfe, unity, and power ; while it 
ministers somewhat to its w^eal. A portion of public spirit 
is found in each, as the proper result of social combination, 
hallowed by the truth and charity of religion. An image 
of the whole is presented in each ; a transcript of the past 
and future, finally to be reflected by the mund of the world. 
Re\ival is the restored animus of the Church to its pitch 
of working power, when it has sunk below it, through the 
corrupting influence of the world ; or, more properly, the 
imfaithfulness of its own people — to moral agents nothing, 
being strictly a cause which lies beyond the province of the 
will itself. It is an awakening after slumber, life after death. 
It is Zion putting on her strength, starting up at the voice, 
saying, " Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory 
of the Lord is risen upon thee." It is a great compensating 
power for all waste and damage. It renders service, recom- 
pense ; gospel motive, all- compelling. The spirit of the 
Church, like that of a convert, is new. A prevailing spiritu- 
ality sheds a glory on every ordinance and work of religion. 
Men are captivated by it ; they feel and act under the law 
of an overpowering realization, which renders everything 
worldly, shadowy, and contemptible. It is obvious that such 
a power is needed in the Church, to harmonize its doctrines 
with the character of its people, — its resources, with its ob- 
ligations to the world. Ordinarily, such a harmony is far 
from being apparent ; facts are in evidence of a painful in- 
congruity. The Church is not adequate to its work ; it is 
not overtaking the march of evil, or staying the plague that 



HARMONIZING ITS DOCTRINES AND OBLIGATIONS. 207 

desolates the world. The Churcli may set up her sanctua- 
ries, and institutes ; but she does not pour forth her heart 
upon the world, nor earnestly attempt its conversion. The 
Church is too conserving in its temper ; not nobly ambitious, 
bold, restless, confident. It should transfer to itself the 
energy and wisdom applied to the business of the world. 
The Church should be its heavenly counterpart ; not an ex- 
ception to every rule of human conduct. Duty, whether 
personally or collectively considered, should take the form 
of a definite service to Christ; as the maintenance of his 
cause is Scripturally termed " the work of the Lord," not 
only as done by him, but for him ; intrusted to men, though 
operated by himself. 

Revival is the restoration of operation in the Church, of 
an action at once \dgorous and general ; it is the efiect and 
demonstration of a power, strong, and all-compelling. It 
is inward and spiritual ; the efflux of a mightier grace than 
ordinary, leaving the outward condition of the Church un- 
changed. No influence may aid it from without. It neither 
owes its origin to circumstances, nor to animal excitement. 
It is no creature of fictitious agency, a spark kindled by the 
breath of man, expiring as soon as he ceases to blow it. 
Agitation is the effect^ rather than the cause of these Church 
phenomena ; as the wind agitates the face of nature, but is 
not raised by it. To control it is a human office, so as to 
prevent the mischief and the scandal of extravagancies ; 
but to give the impulse, is the act of God. If religion be 
a taking hold of God's strength, it can be no wonder that 
it should imply the taking hold of man's strength also, 
stirring the very depths of his nature. They are far 
mightier operations which overtmn the dominion of evil in 
the soul, than those which dry up rivers, or hurl down 
mountains from their seats, with which Scripture sometimes 
compares them. The cure of a disease, or the restoration 
of a limb, may not be effected without a painfully powerful 
appliance to the whole system of the man ; nor is life itself 



208 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

other than the birth of travail. Should it be therefore 
strange if the soul have its travail also, and the sorrows of 
death should environ the gates of its life ? Or, is it possi- 
ble that the great transition of the spirit from " the power 
of darkness" into the kingdom of grace, can be an event 
unaccompanied by strong, and even agonizing emotion ? 
The tide of emotion is surely not precluded by rehgion, and 
absorbed by the world only. The more lofty and intense 
exercises of the soul may be well supposed to spring from 
views of its primary relations, and of its coming final lot, 
more than from its sensible and fleeting concerns. Its most 
stirring impulses may surely descend from " on high ;" from 
things as far higher than itself, as all others are beneath 
it : the weight of eternity, and more than the glory of an 
universe, descend upon it, to implant and actuate religion. 
What, then, is even a world to a soul ? ^' Wisdom," says 
our Lord, ''is justified of her children;" they love what 
others hate, and glory in that which the world contemns. 
The most characteristic bursts of her spirit are self vindi- 
cative ; they provoke the world, but gladden the faithful. 
Her divinity shines forth as in the beginning. It is a dis- 
tinct and special testimony offered to an age, a locality, or 
a people, in behalf of Christ, and his kingdom on earth. 
The Church is enriched with the spoils of the adversary. 
Lost sheep are borne in triumph from the wilderness to 
the fold. A jubilee dawns on men, and its joy is felt in 
heaven. 

Revival is a dispensational I'esource in Christianity, as it 
is a help, extraordinary, for the Church. Every predic- 
tion of " the last days," teems w^ith the visions of an 
abundant glory, with the display of fulness to overflowing, — 
fountains, rivers, seas, are the images of its vast redimdancy. 
It is an outpouring from the skies, a deluge overspreading 
the whole earth. "The accepted time" is "the day of 
salvation." Grace is to bear an absolute rule; truth to 
prevail as a noontide sun. It is a feast, a royal plenty, a 



DISPENSATIOXAL PLENITUDE OF THE SPIRIT. 209 

board spread "for all nations.'' It is a fulfilment, every- 
thing prior to it being but promise. It is consummation, 
ripeness of purpose, and epoch. It is a provisional finality, 
to which nothing can be added, from which nothing can be 
taken away. No more are the incarnation and the atone- 
ment anticipations to the Church, they are its foundations ; 
facts infinitely affluent in doctrine and power. The spirit 
is given, not promised, as aforetime. His presence is the 
voucher of every gospel fact, and the substance of every 
gospel blessing. It binds the ages of the past with the 
present, and with the future. The history and the mystery 
of redemption are alike imfolded by the Spirit. It is the 
invisible which succeeded to the visible administration of the 
kingdom of heaven, and w^hich is more than compensatory, 
it is surpassing. His is not only the highest kind of agency, 
but the only remedial one to mind ; at once direct, and un- 
limited, except by the essential laws and properties of a 
spiritual nature. His sovereignty comprises every mode 
and degree of agency within the scope of the redeeming 
covenant. It varies with time and circumstances, with the 
intellectual and moral capacities of men, with the conditions 
of society, and the specialities of individual character. At 
one time, its prevailing cast of influence may be the tender 
and the gentle, the persuasive and alluring ; at other times, 
the impetuous and starthng. Its visitations are like the 
tempest and the fire, not the *^ still small voice." It is 
seizure, not solicitation ; mercy's arrest of the sinner, not 
her whispered expostulation. One while the Spirit seems 
to proceed more characteristically in illumination ; at an- 
other, by strong appeals to the conscience ; at another, by 
mighty touches of the affections. In some instances, his 
operations may be more gradually developed ; in others, 
they are all but synchronic. Sometimes his action may be 
more remarkable for extent than for depth, or the converse 
may be equally conspicuous. Sometimes lengthened pre- 
paration may be traced for more decisive operations ; then 



210 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

again, this seems to be altogetlier dispensed with, and the 
visitation is as sudden as it is transforming. 

The Spirit's course is frequently more discernible among 
the young, descending even to those of tender years ; 4he 
downward scale is taken, until, to use a prophetic phrase, 
he turns his '' hand upon the little ones," thence ascending 
to manhood, and even to old age. There may be also dif- 
ferences observed in the means and occasions of revival. 
The most usual condition of it is the previous application to 
prayer by the Cliurch, in an unusual degree, the grace of 
supplication poured forth upon ministers and people ; or it 
is introduced by some ministerial agency, specially qualified 
to produce this effect ; or by the special influence of even 
an ordinary ministry, at some particular time, to move and 
to awaken. Providences, too, of an alarming order, often 
prepare the way, whether national or local ; particularly such 
as affect life or entail grievous disasters upon famihes or 
communities. '*Lo, oftentimes God worketh these things 
with man, to keep back his soul from the pit." Occasions, 
however, (which perhaps may be exceptions to the rule of 
the Spirit's operations,) may be noted, when precursory 
means and instruments have been wanting ; when the spirit 
of prayer in its higher measures has followed, instead of 
preceding the manifestation. He has rather created it, than 
waited for it. Nor has any sign been given, or external 
agency been specially employed, to give the originating 
impulse to the work, or desire to seek the gift. The con- 
viction of need may have been unaccompanied by cor- 
responding stimulus to prayer, or exertion of any kind. 
Adversity may have bred discouragement, and long disap- 
pointment have settled into helpless grief. This sovereignty 
of the Spirit is, in these instances, marvellously commended 
to our admiration and love. He that strives with men, though 
they are " flesli," pities his people when they are unfaith- 
ful ; and fulfils, by these visitations, the prophetic picture 
of our Saviour's grace, " a bruised reed shall he not break." 



MODES, DEGREES, AND SUBJECTS OF THEM. 211 

If his justice be exact, liis grace is abundant. Its ordi- 
nary rule and measure, however large, do not exhaust His 
fulness, nor preclude special emissions on persons, churches, 
agencies, as it pleaseth Him. As there are degrees of His 
influence, reduced to the bare entail of responsibihtj ; so 
there are measures of it which entrench upon the province 
of a moral freedom. There may be degrees of divine influ- 
ence, which, under certain conditions, and for a season, are 
irresistible : just as, under certain conditions, merely human 
influences are so. The human agent conveys his own in- 
fluence by speech, or action, in so urgent a degree, that one 
result only is inevitable. 

The same issue is also predicable of the force of rela- 
tions and causes simply physical ; but this only takes place 
under special conditions, and implies no invasion of the 
moral prerogatives of mind. The mightiest visitations of 
divine influence do not deprive the man of a moral self- 
control. They are not the standard of a spiritual state, 
nor the momentum which creates habit ; they are not uni- 
formJy compulsive ; they insure certain effects, but do not 
necessitate them. The man acts freely, though the power 
of the determining motive be extraordinary, and for the 
time and the act, no alternative is matched against them. 

It is an important evangelic axiom, that nothing short of 
what justice forbids, is impossible to the grace of redemp- 
tion, and the working of the Spuit of God ; nor should any 
demonstrations of saving power be thought imreasonable 
in expectation, to faith and prayer, which may seem neces- 
sary to convert men to God, and to expel the Evil One. 
Such demonstrations cannot be irrelevant to a dispensation 
of moral recoveiy. They are the proofs of its efficacy, the 
crown of its perfection. They exhibit a full and sufficient 
antagonism to '' the law of sin and death." Surely, more 
may be done than merely to equalize the chances of salva- 
tion and perdition. If the offence abound, ''grace may 
much more abound ;" not only in the worth and freeness 



212 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

of tlie blessings of redemption, but in the sovereign ]30wer 
with which they may come to us. 

Again, the public interests of religion seem to require 
superadditions of spiritual agency, to what are simply ordi- 
nary ; for otherwise the force of counteracting influences 
would seem not to be provided against. The tendencies to 
declension are, at least, as strong in bodies of Christians, as 
in indi\aduals. This fact is as sure as experience can make 
it. It is established by the messages of Christ to some of 
the first and purest churches. Is, then, human degeneracy 
in no instances., and in no degree, overruled? Are there 
no sovereign resources, from which revival and reinforce- 
ment may evene, when the prosperity, or even the existence 
of a church may be perilled? — or when, looking at the 
case more broadly, the general condition of society seems 
to bar the ascendency of religion to the ordinary pitch of 
its agencies ? Is it not plain, too, that the 2^uhl{c interest 
in religion, — especially that engrossing degree of it, which 
its supremacy demands, and which is necessary to its do- 
minion, — cannot be secured by tame and common-place 
routine? In order to this men must be aroused and en- 
grossed. Religion must come forth from the inner sanctu- 
ary of her people's worship and bosoms, from the domain 
of her ordinances and her oracles, to declare her majesty 
more publicly, to awe and to strike the " untoward gener- 
ation," which, under her less mighty appliances, thus per- 
ish within sight of her cross and her sanctuaries ! How 
much greater things might come to pass, on the plainest 
principles of Christianity, than are commonly witnessed, or 
even thought of! How painfully obtrusive is the convic- 
tion of practical failure, when results and provisions are 
compared together ! And, what is to bring about a recog- 
nised and joyful proportion between them ? Surely not 
the tardy and feeble working of an average Christianity! 
How, and when, could the world be converted by such a 
process, when it does little more than suffice to keep its 



AGREEABLE TO THE SCOPE OF CHRISTIANITY. 213 

life, intead of extending its conquests ? The day of Pente- 
cost is itself the perfect proof that what we call revival is 
nothing else than true primitiveism. 

The dispensation opened on that great day, showed itself 
adequate to the wants of the world. It had a might and a 
speed in it that revealed its destiny, and its ample suffi- 
ciency to compass it. It was a full revelation of the pecu- 
liar glory of Christianity, as a spiritual power ; a declara- 
tion of its nature, beyond what words or sjmibols could 
convey. It was a great initial fact in its economy, contain- 
ing the law of its future operation, and the prognostic of 
its ultimate triumph. It showed the measure, and not the 
7iatu7'e only, of the heavenly gift ; a measure never to be 
diminished, any more than totally withdrawn, except in 
those features of it that may be regarded as merely secon- 
dary and accidental, however glorious. A dispensation of 
grace may well be supposed, either at its beginning or 
close, worthy of being signalized by extraordinary divine 
tokens ; while its fulness is not impaired by a subsequnt 
withdrawment of them. These refer to something greater 
than themselves, yielding up their office, like extraordinary 
messengers of heaven, when their testimony has been sealed 
by infallible proofs, and the law of divine operation has 
been ascertained and settled among men. But no inferiority 
of dispensation is hence to be inferred. These are witnesses 
of a perpetual identity, appertaining to every future age, 
during which it abides in force. They vouch for its integ- 
rity, and the primitive histoiy of its effects, till another, 
and higher order of events shall ensue, declaring its termi- 
nation in the state of glorified existence. 

If this view of the day of Pentecost be correct, it is to be 
regarded as a jyrecedent, embodying a law of designed uni- 
versality, in respect to the world. The outpoming of the 
Spiiit ''upon all flesh," was presaged in this event, to 
which the prophecy of Joel had respect. It was only then 
fulfilled in type, or example ; it did not come up to the 



214 CIIUKCH VISITATIONS. 

breadth of its terms, much less exhaust the blessing con- 
veyed by them. It could never be meant to restrict them 
to a particular age or joeople. _ 

The "last days," mentioned as so illustrious in these 
displays of grace, assuredly cannot be limited to the pri- 
meval period. They include the entire series of ages to 
come, as these are all comprised in the range of the dispen- 
sation itself. This is, and must be, the great provision on 
which Christianity relies for its upholding and universality. 
This is its very life and glory ; it has no other. Its outset 
demonstrated this, and was intended to form the views, 
and guide the efforts, of its people. Its very title, as " the 
kingdom of heaven," is pre-eminently vindicated by it. It 
is the one distinguishing ground of it, forasmuch as its ex- 
istence and progress recognise no other than a spiritual 
agency. That agency is pre-eminently a chartered gift to 
the Church, and in no less measure than that which first 
revealed the presence and power of the Holy Spirit in the 
assembly in the upper room. 'No reasons can be assigned 
why the gift should have been diminished, because it is plainly 
C hristianity itself, nothing accidental to, or separable fi^om it. 
In it lies its adaptation to the whole case of the world, — its 
wliole strength, as a reign of grace. Its insufficiency is 
always seen, whenever this gift appears to be withdrawn. 
It is mutilated, caricatured, and advanced in cold and 
carnal recognition ; but it is never really exhibited, or truly 
propagated, but by its own native force, its inherent spirit 
and life ; that which, while it exalts its doctrines above all 
human theory and opinion, as coming immediately from 
God, shows, that its design and its operations are equally 
be37^ond the counsels and the power of man; and that, 
whatever forms, even of professed recognition, are either 
alien from, or antagonist to, this great truth, are but im- 
posing and pernicious delusions. 

As the gift of the Spirit comprises the whole executive 
agency of Christianity, it must be commensurate with its. 



TO BE SOUGHT a>;d expected. 215 

whole design, and infinitely sufficient for it. But sove- 
reignty is included in the gift ; which implies the operation 
of a Divine agent, and which also regards, as the subject 
of its operations, the moral nature of man. It must in its 
bestowment respect the laws fundamental to a moral 
government, and incorporated with the remedial system 
itself. It may be reduced to an insensible degree by sys- 
tematic resistance ; it may be increased to the pitch of an 
all-converting efficacy, by the suit of the Church, and the 
yieldings of penitent minds to the authority of the word. 
His preliminary mfluences may be so cherished that his 
fullest gifts may follow, as proper moral awards. Prayer 
may bring doAvn upon congregations, or masses, a stronger 
converting influence ; may stimulate the conscience, en- 
lighten the understanding, and suddenly raise up within 
the man the standard of revolt from the enemy, when his 
dominion seemed most absolute, and his prey most helpless. 
He may put forth a quiet, but strong hand upon society, 
like that of attraction or magnetism in nature, mysteriously 
biasing it to rehgion, and conveying a predisposition of 
mind for more decisive results. He avails himself of the 
social sympathies of men, as well as their more special 
affections, converting them into channels of influence, to 
pervade more thoroughly the public mind. In His hand 
all instruments are poweiful, all events impressive, all 
human appliances divine ordinances, teeming with efficacy, 
as the snow and rain falling from heaven. 

Looking, then, at the anticipations of prophecy respect- 
ing Christianity, at its facts, doctrines, and economy ; with 
their relations to all that preceded, or may be supposed to 
follow it ; and looking, too, at the Pentecostal day as the 
full enunciation of its power, the prognostic of the future, 
and exemplar of a judgment on the Evil One, no surprise 
should be felt that similar demonstrations should break 
forth successively in the midst of the Church, and before 
the eyes of the world ; nor should a lurking suspicion l^e 



216 CIIUKCH VISITATIONS. 

indulged, tliat some uUetior and very different manifesta- 
tion of God must evene, to supplement the reign of the 
Spirit on the earth. This expectation is of itself a proof 
of an effete and dwarfish Christianity : its true power is 
not only concealed, it is lost ; while apathy and unbelief 
restrain the true evangelical "coming of the Son of man'* 
to the world. The marvel should rather be, that so little 
is looked for from existing provisions, viewed in connexion 
with the manifest abeyance of divine interpositions in any 
other form than this. This looks like finality of dispen- 
sational arrangement, as that of creation ; and for the same 
reason — that each was from the beginning perfect. What 
is simply material and instrumental, is unprogressive ; while 
the true power of Christianity lies in the illimitable mea- 
sure of the agency that upholds it. Its very conditionality, 
w^hile it accounts for its comparative absence at any time 
and place, shows that its most reserved resources are not 
beyond the reach of prayer ; that God rather waits for man 
than man for God ; and that this inversion of God's OAvn 
rule, is the only cause of his withholding blessing. 

The gift of the Spirit, and the condition of religion 
in the world, are facts which cannot be harmonized but by 
the admission of an intermediate and contingent cause, ac- 
tually determinative of results. The plenary consignment of 
the gift, from the date of Christianity itself, cannot consist 
with the recognition of a sovereignty, whose prevailing 
ordinance is withholding ; and whose prerogatives lie be- 
yond the reach of the very nature, for the aid and restora- 
tion of which it was originated. It is manifest that the age 
of mere promise respecting this agency, expired with the 
pentecostal hour. Hence, the ages successive to it must 
not be viewed as the continuity of promise, but the exten- 
sion of fulfilment. The gift, being dispensational, is im- 
mutable and universal, an unsealed fountain of life to all 
ages and people, gushing from the mediatorial throne ; and 
answering to the utmost need and extent of our race. 



TESTIMONIES TO A LAPSED CONDITION. 217 

Kevival is, then, if dispqnsationally regarded, not pro- 
perly an extraordinaiy and very occasional phenomenon, 
but rather — under certain modifications — the full mani- 
festation of the kingdom of Christ; not, indeed, as that 
kingdom may, in any instance, barely exist, but as it is in 
full accordance with the work and attributes of its Head. 
Revival, also, whether particular or general, implies a 
lapse and depression in respect to a first and normal con- 
dition of the Church. It is the recovery of somethmg losU 
not the reception of something new. Revivals are repeti- 
tions and re-assurances of pentecostal glory, — glimpses of 
that grand primeval sun, so long and so thickly overcast. 
They are revelations of the degeneracy of Christendom, 
which have escaped every historian of its affairs, and which 
no human demonstrations can make impressive to us. 
They show us how every age and church have, in their 
style of thought and feeling on this great subject, gone 
astray from the divine model, which sprang forth on the 
birthday of Christianity, when the new man was created. 
They make us to imderstand, and the world to confess, 
that the ordinary state of Christianity, is not its necessary, 
or even its natural one; and that when^woke, it is indeed 
''the arm" and */the glory of the Lord." We are then 
made to feel, that its future progress is not be measured 
by the past ; nor the actual and possible of its condition to 
be confounded. The future which brightened to the eye 
of prophecy unto the perfect day, we regard but as the de- 
velopment of its dispensational resources temporally re- 
pressed, not FINALLY WITHDRAWN ; and all the surer in 
prospect, because so obviously kept back until now. Our 
assm*ances of advance, founded on the doctrine of prophecy, 
on dispensational analogy, and the order of divine manifes- 
tation, are, as the progress of an argument, from the less to 
the greater. We apply not our experience, but our faitJiy 
to what is still to come ; which, in this respect, is as anti- 
cipative as was that of the Church before the Advent. The 

10 



218 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

reign of the Spirit on earth, is as positive a promise for the 
future, as was the coming of Christ for the past ; and is the 
proper correlative and consequence of it. 

To this, which may be termed "the present truth," ^he 
mind of the Church must, and will be, more engrossingly 
turned. Genuine revivals are the want of the times ; the 
tendencies of which are to explain away, or to depreciate 
the most positive and peculiar dogmas of Revelation, to ex- 
aggerate the powers of man, and to put further and further 
away from the mind, the idea both of the stated and extra- 
ordinary agency of God upon the world. Under the aspects 
of such facts as these, the doctrine of the Spirit's agency 
in the creation and maintenance of religion, cannot be too 
strongly advanced, or too urgently applied. 

Not only should all honour be rendered to the Holy Spirit, 
on account of the necessity and excellency of his gifts, but 
of his Divinity also. His office, and His person, should 
command our deepest veneration and gratitude ; nor should 
we be more solemnly warned, not to grieve Him by anti- 
christian tempers and habits, than by our neglects in seek- 
ing, with due earnestness and faith. His most plenteous 
promised impartations, or by our disparaging talk or be- 
haviour, respecting His most favourite work. To determine 
the mode of His operations, which, by the Lord himself, 
are compared to the wind, blowing " where it hsteth ;" to 
prescribe to Him, of whom it is wonderingly inquu'ed, " Who 
hath directed the Spirit of the Lord ?" — what shall be the 
manner of his visitation in the Church; what instruments 
he shall use, or effects he shall produce, — are giievous of- 
fences against his wisdom and love ; and are visited with an 
impotency and steriUty, on the best adapted agencies, which 
all may deplore, but none remove. 

Of all the constituents of Christianity, the presence of 
the vital power in its utmost force, is essential to its progress. 
The abundant life, is alike demanded for the perfection, and 
the widening of its work. To no other power m earth or 



THEIR PUBLIC NECESSITY. 219 

heaven, will the combined influences of human and Satanic 
enmity yield. Judgments and mercies, however blended, 
or however varied, whether in manner or degree, produce 
no lasting effect upon the heart, if the Spirit's grace be with- 
held. The improvements life in society, the advance of re- 
ligious knowledge, and the appHcation of superior skill in 
training the infant mind ; the multiplication of church agen- 
cies, and methods of church industry, together with the ex- 
ertions of the most gifted ministry, will do little to improve 
the tone, or extend the dominion of the religion of our age, 
without an enlarged measure of the Spirit's visitations. The 
wilderness will never "become a fruitful field," while the 
hand of man is chiefly employed in its transformation. It 
still bears plentifully the brier, and the thorn; at best 
yielding but a scanty harvest to the lap of the labourer, 
until He be poured out upon it, who is himself the bless- 
ing — comprising all the actual, and the possible of good — 
to the church and the world. He, when thus nigh, renders 
every instrument competent to his work ; while, in some in- 
stances. He supersedes them ; dealing with men. Himself, 
without the intervention of thier fellows ; or compelling 
them to seek that help, which in every other case they 
would have spumed. 

The first Christian Church that graced the world, was the 
immediate product of a power immensely greater than that 
which Christians ordinarily regard, as necessary to maintain 
some tolerable footing in society. Its existence, and its 
strength, were almost matters of a day, rapid as the growth 
of the gourd, majestic as the cedars of Lebanon. Thus 
gigantic in its birth, its progress was but the development 
of its proportions ; its labours but the very play of its might. 
Its action was quick, because strong; its spread was the 
consequence of its vigour, not of mere circumstantial aids. 
Thus it was, that it overcame the world; nor can it be 
doubted, that such a power would again achieve the like, 
if the Church would again put on this as her strength. 



220 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

Other associations of men may derive power from new and 
unexpected turns of the times — from the growth of par- 
ticular opinions and sympathies, and an order of striking 
events. For every conceivable type of social, political, and 
even religious movement, human nature itself affords infinite 
scope ; but the Church is shut up to one power only, for its 
advancement in the world. This is not inherent, but derived ; 
not ^vithout, or around it, but from above. 

The one great basis of all revealed religion, is Divine 
power. This may be traced downward through its whole 
history. It is affirmed in every form of speech, and illus- 
trated by facts of surpassing interest, in both Testaments. 
It stands before us, arrayed in the glory of every miracle, 
and is the one oracle of all divine testimony. Christ him- 
self is " the arm of the Lord." Prayer, also, as a New Tes- 
tament ordinance, is the proper counterpart of this truth ; 
while the gift of the Spirit is the one fact and doctrine, an- 
swering to it all. It expounds and conveys the whole divine 
might, invested in the kingdom of grace. As in every de- 
partment of exertion where man only is concerned, all the 
difference between failure and success may, in general, be 
ascribed to the character of his plans, the selection of its 
means, and his management of the agencies employed to 
carry them out ; so it is equally evident, that, in a system 
which admits man only as an instrument, and God as the 
only agent, by whom everything is done, that is done 
aright, success or failure must turn on the event, or the 
denial of His concurrence. In this view it is that our Lord's 
words convey to us so pregnant a truth, '' Without me ye 
can do nothing." 

Subordinate causes must be ranged in their own order, 
so as not to supersede, but to convey the energy of the 
First. Thus, they are at once tested and perfected. Their 
value is seen in their results, and not in their adaptations 
only ; else they stand rather as symbols of truth, than as 
its living organs. They become channels voided by the 



THEIR CRITERIA RESULTS, NOT INSTRUMENTS. 221 

stream, — disused instruments ; disused because unsuitable 
to their Maker's purpose. The highest honour which can 
appertain to any instrument, or system of means, is, that 
God is pleased to appropriate it, by manifestation of His 
agency through it, and by the effects following it, when 
it is put in motion ; and this honour is to be measured, by 
the degree in which these results are made apparent. 

But this position does not imply that the divine sanction 
is appended to unscriptural principles, or unholy agencies 
detected in the work of revival. These tend to damage, and 
even to destroy it, but do not offer positive disproof of its 
genuineness. There may be much that is purely human, 
and yet something truly divine, even in phenomena by no 
means unexceptionable. Our Lord's test, "by their fruits 
ye shall know them," is as applicable to things as to persons. 
The work is less to be judged of by its instruments^ than 
by its effects. God is not pledged to men or measures, 
though the results are, more or less, manifestly his own. 
He deals with individual minds only, in the great affau' of 
their salvation ; not with the instruments, or the accidents, 
which may have been concerned to bring this about. It is 
their sincerity ^ repentance, faith, to which the great Heart- 
searcher has respect, where He bestows his blessing ; not to 
the inducing agencies of these dispositions and acts. It is 
no proof of superior holiness, or even average piety, that 
signs follow the ministry of individuals, any more than the 
primitive gifts were proofs of eminent sanctity in their pos- 
sessors, or even of piety at all. Endowments must not be 
confounded with graces ; nor the special adaptation of gifts, 
to influence masses powerfully for their good, with the 
virtues which commend us to God. They by no means 
imply a correspondence with each other in degree, or even 
a necessary co-existence at all. 

This fact is not, however, to be pleaded in disparagement 
of high personal holiness, as a condition to the/z^Z/ and 
lasting effect of public gifts in the ser\ace of the Church ; 



222 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

but it IS important to adduce it, to vindicate the genuineness 
of a work — when the measures and agencies employed in 
its behalf, are not faultless — from sweeping condemnation ; 
and to abate the dangerous and almost idolatrous regards 
in the popular mind, which arise from this mistaken identity 
between personal and public qualities. It is still more im- 
portant to keep in mind this distinction, when it is considered 
that ifc not only disposes us to judge more tenderly of a class 
of revivals, in some respects imduly humanized, but to 
form more correct opinions of what revivals ought to be. 
They should not be viewed as an occasional, and a some- 
what extraneous element, — a force applied to the Church, 
instead of one springing out of it. They should not be put 
in the same relation to the Church as the physician's art is 
to a patient, — a devised antagonism to disturbances, or de- 
cay in nature : they should be outgoings of the fulness of 
the Church ; the redundancy of its life in teeming multiplicity, 
by the unrestrained descent of blessing from above ; and 
by an order of progression, like that of general nature, fixed 
in its ordinances, but varying in their application, — one 
while imperceptibly slow, at another, in throes, and bursts, 
revealmg its Hfe, and accelerating its work; one while, 
scanty in products, then loading us with its hundredfold 
bounty, ever sovereign, yet ever constant. 

Thus should the work of the Lord be traced in his Church. 
It should be nature still ; a deep principle of life ever swell- 
ing from within, and boundlessly expansive. If it be not 
this, it is more an accident than an essence, — not real, but 
fictitious. It is a low and offensive species of externalism ; 
the more unseemly as it eschews every form in which nature 
itself testifies a religious reverence, and the more dangerous, 
because licensing the utmost riot of the passions, by an ima- 
ginary union with the spiritual. The office of judgment in 
religious movements is not to stimulate, but to repress the 
emotions; to adjust and regulate to the sober and the 
solemn, what of itself tends to engender a wild fanaticism. 



THE SOURCES OF A TEEMING LIFE. 223 

The true element of religion is midway between this and 
stoicism. It is mind mightily stirred, but not merely, or 
even chiefly, in its secondary faculties. The heart-pricking 
preparatory to the sudden conversion of the multitudes on 
the day of Pentecost, certainly signifies the efiect of the con- 
viction that was darted into them, as an arrow into the deer, 
or goad into the ox. The apostolic weapon which pierced 
the conscience, and wrung the soul, was simply " the truths 
The seat of conviction must be the conscience, not the pas- 
sions ; and conviction must ever be the fundamental work 
of the Spirit, if law be fundamental to rehgion, and con- 
demnation to the "ministration of righteousness." Where 
this is lacking, the agency of the Spirit must be denied. 
Excitement is a counterfeit, and the whole affair but satanic 
mimicry — a miserable playing off by the Tempter on human 
weakness ; the obvious design of which is to delude souls, 
and to bring religion into contempt. To guard against 
these disasters, revivals should be connatural with the 
Church, not imported from afar, — self-motive, self-accretive 
products. Every church should ajBford scope for them, 
should work for them, and should expect them ; not as neWy 
or even rare things ; not as certain loose appendages, but 
as so thoroughly constituent facts, and legitimate results of 
evangehc prmciples and actings, that they should be known 
by some other name, than one which impHes both blame 
and reproach. If otherwise viewed and sought, then is 
then' legitimacy doubtful, their workings exceptionable, 
and their eiSects as short-lived as they are often positively 
injurious. 

This preternatural tension of humanity, is not followed by 
a healthful tranquillity, as is the case in social changes ; but 
by exhaustion, from which recovery is slow, and often dis- 
tant. The moral staple on which rehgion depends as its 
basis and material, is sadly attenuated and depraved. A 
frozen indifference, if not an unconquerable antipathy, to its 
most precious and hallo^ving influences, succeeds in minds 



224 CHURCH visitations. 

that have been subjected to, and abused by, tliis spiritual 
quackery. Ordinances are abandoned, the ministry de- 
spised, and even the truth itself loathed, except presented 
in its most elementary form ; or in quantity, such as may 
be comprised in a few trite and favourite propositions ; or 
so far as it may awaken the imagination, or give fresh 
impulse to the passions, instead of shining in full-orbed 
radiance, shedding a firmamental glory upon the inner 
man, wholly transforming, because wholly revealing its 
power. 

In advocating and conducting what, in distinction from 
the ordinary course of rehgious action, are termed revivals, 
the utmost care is requisite never to swerve in the slightest 
degree, either from the authority or the sobriety of truth ; 
from a Scriptural simplicity in the measures employed, or 
the decorum which public feeling, but especially religion 
itself, demands. Everything like guile or artifice must be 
laid aside, no less than the hypocrisy and deceit which 
inspiration so sternly proscribes. All attempts at wonder- 
working, or a Balaam-like seeking enchantments, are 
revolting to true piety, and insults offered to the majesty 
and condescension of " the Spirit of grace." Pious frauds 
and legerdemain, however disguised, or however successful, 
cannot be innocently brought into co-operation with the 
Spirit of truth ; or coalesce with the most holy of all holy 
works — that of saving souls. Earnestness must flow from 
integrity, and be strongly impregnated with it. Principles 
must not be cast away in a wild chase after effects. Holy 
work must be holily done ; and though infirmity and mis- 
take cannot be entirely excluded from the best efforts of 
man to promote the work of God, his vices must have as 
little to do with it, as Belial has with Christ. Every in- 
fraction of godly rules is penally visited ; whether in the 
public degradation of the agents concerned in it, or the 
vapid, characterless, Antinomian plight, into which every 
community of professors sinks which grasps at influence. 



MISCHIEF OF FACTITIOUS REVIVAL. ^25 

at the expense of principle ; or which, by construction, if 
not intention, does " e^dl that good may come." 

These animadversions on certain modes of proceeding — 
which, if not deserving unquahfied condemnation, as bad 
in principle, are severely censm-able for their eccentricity — 
must not be strained further than the line which bounds 
extravagance from zeal; or a dishallowing, mischievous 
expediency, from the vigorous actings of a deep convic- 
tion. Influenced by the fear and the disgust which bas- 
tard examples raise in minds duly enlightened, and jealous 
for the honour of rehgion, the heart of the Church may, 
to its own damage, and the ofi'ending of the Holy Spirit, 
become cold and ahen with regard to that which pre- 
eminently claims to be " the work of the Lord." OflPence 
justly taken at exceptionable doings, or the habit of depre- 
ciating results, induces a settled repugnance to every kind 
and degree of action in the Church, which, in the best sense 
of the word, may be called a stir, such as Christianity be- 
gan with, which is necessary to keep it before, and to get 
it into, the public mind ; such a momentum, in fact, as 
equally denotes health in the Church, and insures its ex- 
tension in the world ; and without which, the prospects of 
its ultimate dominion may well be deemed visionary. This 
condition of feeling, if it become general, is more than an 
evidence of mistaken judgment ; it is a demonstration of 
luhewarmness, especially in those communities where other 
views and practices have prevailed. Such a change must 
argue, that they have taken a new and lower key, one 
which augurs ill for the future, as it is the knell of a de- 
parted brighter age. If the facts, and the expectation of 
revivals, be lost to the Church, the behef of the doctrine 
sinks to a mere negation, even with those who seem to 
cHng to it most fondly. Like the higher gifts and degrees 
of personal religion, it melts away and disappears, as some 
gloriously coloured cloud ; or, rather, as the glory seen by the 
prophet to go up ''from the threshold of the house." 

10* 



226 CHURCH VISITATIONS. 

Churclies, as well as individuals, have the anointing of the 
Holy One, in a sense appropriate to each — an amissible 
gift, which, when not totally forfeited, may be so far re- 
tracted and impaired, in respect to public as well as per- 
sonal efficiency, that it can no longer be affirmed that they 
" know all things," much less do them. The measure of 
practical knowledge is greatly diminished, the degree of 
working ability still more so. A carnal prudence is sub- 
stituted for heavenly wisdom ; and a feeble, halting motion 
for the omnipotent action of faith and love. The tendencies 
of the present age, are not such as to require special rules, 
or additional safeguards, for the avoidance of dangerous 
excesses in religious action. We are more in danger of 
sinking into a lifeless formalism, than of being injured by 
a ranting enthusiasm. It is not from excess, but from de- 
fect, that the interests of religion are likely, at present, to 
suffer. The spirit which occasioned the apostles on the day 
of Pentecost to be mistaken for drunkards, and St. Paul, 
by Festus, for a madman, is far less a striking character- 
istic with us, than one, which if it be not of the world, too 
closely resembles it, and discovers little of that antagonism, 
in which the true character and power of Christianity con- 
sists. The churches in which no revivals of religion take 
place, either occupy the highest or the lowest point of the 
scale within which Church existence ranges. If the former, 
their life is too full and fresh to allow the term revival to 
bear any significant application to them. If the latter, it 
is almost too low to be capable of reaction, but by Him to 
whom "all things are possible." If this observation be 
true, then these phenomena are signs of a Church life, more 
or less advanced towards the dispensational perfection of 
Christianity — the perfection of Pentecost. Their life, in- 
deed, may be a somewhat depressed and arrested force ; like 
a river, at intervals absorbed in its course by the sand- 
drifts, buried in the bosom of the desert, yet here and there 
arising as from its tomb, to reveal its power; and even 



DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 22? 

when not visible on the surface, in the full flow of its 
waters, planting thickly the witnesses of its vitality in 
meads, trees, and flowers, springing up in plenteousness, 
beauty, and strength. 



CHAPTER XI. 
THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

*' And so it is as to the world. The great design of God is to rescue 
it from falsehood, and sin, and Satan, and to set upon it the crown of 
glory and purity. And to this, however, everything is made to move." — 
Richard Watsox. 

" By speaking we move man, — ^by prayer we move God. The prayer of 
faith is the only power in the universe to which the great Jehovah yields : 
he looks upon every other power as more or less opposed to him." — 
Robert Hall. 

"In wrath remember mercy. '* This brief petition is full 
and profound. It declares the whole mind of God towards 
the world. It is the basis of revelation, as it is antecedent 
to it, in the character of the Supreme Ruler, and his rela- 
tions to mankind. By wrath, we understand the principle, 
and the manifestations of penal justice, fully answerable to 
a sovereign hohness, bent upon upholding law, and every 
interest of which law must be the guardian. By mercy, we 
understand all measures, and acts of indulgence, issuing 
from the same Power, and declaring his love to the creature, 
though sinful ; and, with a view to ulterior purposes, both 
of justice and grace. These principles of divine govern- 
ment appear to militate with each other ; but they are per- 
fectly harmonized by the subhme discoveries of redemption. 
This involves their co-existence in the mind of God, and 
explains the otherwise most anomalous fact of their coalition, 
in the actual system of Divine Providence over the world, 
which, in its unvarying and most distinctive features, re- 
iterates it ; but is silent on the doctrine implied in it, re- 



228 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

ferring us to the one oracle of revelation, '' Behold the Lamb 
of God !'' The facts, then, are in nature ; the philosophy 
of them descends from another source. 

Redemptioriy hy atonement, is the one doctrine which con- 
nects heaven and earth beneficently, and the light zohich makes 
this connexion manifest. It is a cause, all-sufficient for every 
effect we either experience or witness : and, therefore, by 
a just and famihar rule of philosophizing, no other is to be 
sought for ; or, if seemingly otherwise, the defect is in our 
abihty to trace and apply it, not in the insufficiency of the 
truth itself. The cross is the only key to the facts and the 
history of our race. Taken doctrinally, it is the original 
union of justice and mercy, the glory of which is reflected 
over the world, and diffused over the entire roll of inspira- 
tion. It explains the mitigation of judgment on the primeval 
offence. It elucidates every fact in the moral nature of man, 
from that day to this, together with every physical aspect 
of it. 

Life and death, good and evil, happiness and suffering, 
every circumstance, interest, and action of humanity, show 
but two principles in inseparable combination — ^wrath and 
mercy, neither of them forgotten, but mercy unfailingly re- 
membered. Justice often seems to slumber, and the dues 
of crime not to be exacted. It is intermittent, slow, partial 
in its visitations ; but mercy is ever vigilant, and rich in 
benefactions, as if the mother and nurse of the race. These 
two principles have overlooked and pervaded all ages, lands, 
and people. The traces of their sovereignty are nowhere 
lacking. Their monumental pillars are venerable as the 
mountains ; their inscriptions, written in every character de- 
vised, or language spoken, since Babel's confusion, or the 
day when man was created. They were not effaced, but 
renewed, by the flood. They have been deepened by the 
hand of time, and multiplied with the generations of men. 

Desolation and renewal mark the course of the world 
through all ages. The destructive and the vital powers 



ITS DUALITY OF PRINCIPLE. 229 

are ever co-extant. The vegetable and animal kingdoms 
are overcast with the shadow of these higher truths. Na- 
tions, communities, families, and individuals, are alike sub- 
ject to the sway of these omnipotent principles. Yet the 
mild, the benignant, the good- creating, is always uppermost ; 
for, if mercy be remembered, even when Avrath is kindled, 
its supremacy is strongly declared. That which rules even 
a human being, in moments of provocation, — reigning in the 
temptation to vengeance, — must be the most powerful dis- 
position of his nature, and the law that forms his cha- 
racter. 

The prayer is not merely cognizant of great fundamental 
doctrines, alike exponent of all facts, and of revelation itself ; 
it is especially deprecatory of the utmost vengeance in Him 
to whom it " belongeth," even when extreme measures may 
be loudly demanded. Its application to the condition and 
prospects of the prophet's own people has been already 
noticed. It may be added, that to them the prayer bears 
an unique reference ; strengthening to our faith, in its more 
general bearing, and deepening our conviction of its own 
inspiration. It contemplates that nation as, in some sense, 
the most signal example of divine retribution on record ; its 
denationalization, and deprivation of covenant honours, 
being a far more impressive instance of judgment, than the 
annihilation of any people by the ordinary methods of Divine 
Providence. To them mercy is the retrieving power, as it 
cannot be to nations already defunct, whose name and glory 
remain to us in history alone. The phrase, "remember 
mercy,'' does not merely include a reference to the general 
doctrines before noticed, but to the special engagements of 
God to the forefathers of the Jews, so powerfully pleaded 
by Moses, in that most fearful crisis, when God said that he 
would consume them in a moment. Prayer is, therefore, a 
covenant plea for the mercy, and the oath to their fathers, 
to be fulfilled to their children; though the time should be 
long, and the \ision should tarry, and the sight of the bones 



230 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

in the valley, '^ many," and ''very dry,'' should constrain 
the cry of despair, — *' Our hope is cut off !" 

This prayer, however, includes every possible case that 
humanity can furnish. It implies such a patriotism, and 
such a philanthropy, as forbid the man of God to contem- 
plate, without distressing emotion, the impending judgments 
of God upon any nation, or individual man, in the world : 
his is not the temper of the stoic, or the fatalist — the double 
personification of blasphemy and selfishness. Though 
severely righteous, it is generous and sympathizing. It 
tends almost to depreciate to a man his own personal safety, 
while he sees others exposed to destruction ; and to exult 
more in a single trophy of mercy, than in a thousand holo- 
causts to justice. Thus said Moses : *' If Thou wilt blot out 
their sin ; if not, blot my name out of the book that thou 
hast written.'' Thus Paul, also : '' I could wish myself ac- 
cursed from Christ, for my brethren's sake." 

There is, doubtless, a holy glorying in the work of judg- 
ment : but this is chiefly reserved for that season when 
His judgments shall be "made manifest;" so strongly 
illuminated by the proceedings of the great day, that it 
shall be seen that no place was left for the prerogative of 
mercy ; and that all the possible of its prerogatives having 
been precluded, by the abuse of the season given men for 
repentance, the inevitable alternative became the more 
glorious, as its infliction was the longer delayed. 

It is a prayer for a benevolent issue of the work of judg- 
ment. It embodies the wisdom which God only can teach : 
that mercy is both the policy and the fruit of his judg- 
ments on the world ; that punishment itself is but a subor- 
dinate end in his administration, and wasting visitations, 
but the pioneer measures of his salvation. In respect to 
the prophet's own people, this fact will hereafter become 
strikingly apparent ; the heavy judgments so long resting 
upon them, being destined to abide, till conviction of sin 
shall issue, and penitence prepare the way for their re- 



ITS MIXED PHENOMENA. 231 

moval. This is also the counsel of God toward all offend- 
ing nations : his judgments are reproofs and corrections, 
administered at intervals, and with more or less severity, 
so long as their probationary condition lasts. Hence the 
judgment, which in any case excludes mercy, is not only 
vindicatory of every previous one in the series, but descends 
in a character entirely distinct from them ; as the " seven 
angels, having the seven last plagues," because in them the 
measure of God's wrath is filled up. Thus the prayer is 
verified in its answer, as well as in its doctrine. By the 
general course of Providence, judgments have been far 
more marked by the beneficence of their results, than by 
the miseries they have inflicted. In the latter respect they 
have been transient ; in the former, permanent : in the one 
respect, partial ; in the other, general ; like the free gift, 
abounding over the offence. They have been most wonder- 
fully overruled, to the amehoration and progress of our 
race ; remo^dng obstacles to the career of improvement, 
and enforcing lessons on mankind, which could have been 
furnished by no other kind of discipline. The proofs and 
illustrations of this doctrine may be plentifully gathered 
from the history of our own country and of Europe, during 
centuries past ; while the intimations of similar issues, from 
late, and still impending events, are to some extent so dis- 
tinct, that **he may run who reads them." 

But our views would be unwarrantably limited, if the 
external effects of divine judgments were alone considered. 
The wrath which, as a judicial piinciple, inflicts what is 
meet for the upholding of the claims of the Supreme Ruler, 
has an internal sphere of action, as well as an outward one. 
It alights on men's hearts ; not merely on their estates, or 
their persons. It not only creates earthquakes, which over- 
turn thrones, and fill nations with convulsion and dismay ; 
but smites with obduracy and perverseness, as it did 
Pharaoh, Amalek, and other enemies of His people ; or yet 
more signally, that apostate nation itself. The most ap- 



232 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

palling judgments wliicli the Apocalypse opens on earth, 
are those in which the plagues God sends upon men are 
so vividly related, coupled with the oft-repeated notice of 
their persevering wickedness and impenitency. They are 
slain by the horsemen, stung with scorpions, scorched with 
fire, and agonized by sore diseases ; but still they " blas- 
pheme the God of heaven, which had power over these 
plagues,'' and " repented not to give Him glory." It is a 
matter of sore lamentation and of fearful portent, when the 
words of a prophet declare truly the event of a judgment. 
*' The people turneth not to him that smiteth them ; nei- 
ther do they seek the Lord," when the stroke of his sword, 
descending from heaven, slays the flesh, but rebounds from 
the soul, encased as in the armour of hell. What can this 
portend but another and more crushing blow from the 
same Almighty hand ? or the respite, should it follow, but 
a still more dreadful curse — a momentary truce, during 
which vengeance slumbers not, but presages, like the 
lulled winds, a ruinous onslaught, which neither interces- 
sions nor wailings can assuage ? 

The mercy of God is identic with the revival of his 
work. It has been before remarked, that the term mercy 
bears more than a general signification ; that it particularly 
includes God's covenant favours. In the words of God to 
Moses, as quoted by St. Paul, the connexion shows that it 
meant more than the forgiveness of sin, — even a restoration 
of the high privileges which had been just before forfeited, 
and for which Moses so urgently interceded. " I will be 
gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy 
on whom I will show mercy." This, too, is the sense 
which St. Paul puts upon them in the before-mentioned 
quotation, referring them to the gospel covenant, from which 
the Jews, on account of their unbelief, were about to be 
shut out, and the Gentiles elected in their stead. The 
mercy of God, pre-eminently, is the gospel ; with its gracious 
privileges, its great salvation, its Church economy, its 



THE GOSPEL — THE WORLD'S CHARTER. 233 

''kingdom of heaven." This ''mercy" is chai-tered to the 
world ; it is everlasting and imiversal. It is the fulness of 
all mercy from God, as it is the record of redemption, the 
history and mystery of the cross, the throne of the Mediator, 
and the advent of the Holy Spirit to the world. Of this 
mercy, the Church is the seat and executive. It is mercy's 
temple and treasure-house, in which are stored up the tnie 
riches ; the Bethesda, not for a nation or a city, but the 
whole world. The Church is the visible and covenant em- 
bodiment of mercy, the guardian and gospeller of truth, 
by Christ's authority, and for his name and glory, in the 
conversion of all nations. It has ever pleased God to insti- 
tute human mediums of manifestation, to employ human 
example, teaching, and agency, to carry out his counsels. 
These he never lays aside, though occasionally superseded, 
or varied in their form and application. He has reformed 
them whenever they have become corrupt ; or remodelled 
them when the condition of the world, and the progress of 
his plans, demanded such interposition. The mercy for 
which the prayer is offered, is most eminently the gospel 
covenant, held and expounded by the Christian Church. 
The existence of it is the one great testimony of God to 
the world, of his imf ailing mercy toward it ; for so long as 
the gospel, and the commission to preach it, continue, the 
dispensation of universal grace must abide in full force. 
The presence of His word alone, would determine this 
all-important fact ; though it should, as in the case of the 
law, diminish to a single known and authenticated copy ; 
or not so many as twelve men, as in the beginning, were 
found to publish it. Its sohtary existence would bind the 
world to God, by his own truth and grace. It could not 
perish, so long as the great warrant and text of its am- 
nesty was uncancelled by some direct interposition of God 
himself. 

The Church records and testifies this fact, by its own ex- 
istence and functions, from age to age. It is " the pillar 



234 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

and ground of the truth," lifting it up as a beacon upon 
the mountain top, and expounding the charter of the world's 
being, as in mid heaven, by divine command. God, there- 
fore, remembers mercy, when he preserves His Church, 
as he did the ark, ere the waters were assuaged ; He puts 
his bow in the clouds, when he pubhcly verifies his own 
words, '' Upon this rock will I build my Church, and the 
gates of hell shall not prevail against it." That land 
from which the Church is banished, or the people who re- 
fuse to welcome her word of peace and reign of heaven, is 
doomed to wrath. God's mercy is bound up in his Gospel 
and his Church; and his plagues range freely, as did the 
angel of death through Egypt, where this altar is not 
reared. To remove the candlestick is to withdraw the 
"mercy," which casts a hving radiance over the entire 
sphere of human weal. The charter of the highest bless- 
ings is forfeited to human ingratitude and faithlessness; 
while judgment is as necessarily an alternative, as is dark- 
ness when daylight is withdrawn. 

Hence, the highest mercy visits a land when the Chris- 
tian institute is preserved. It includes every other ; it is 
the pledge of all good ; it bears up the pillars of the state, 
and provides a remedy for all social mischiefs. It is the 
one all-sovereign condition of public, family, and personal 
happiness. Every interest is redeemable, if the Church be 
not lost. There is a foundation yet extant, on which all 
may be rebuilt, and the old wastes, in prophetic phrase, re- 
paired, "the desolations of many generations." The all- 
renewing breath may thence go forth over the whole field 
of social ruin ; and Jerusalem become, in respect to the trans- 
formations that have passed on all around her, a "new 
heaven, and a new earth." 

But, if to possess the Church be the true weal of men, 
how much more her purification and enlargement ? The 
mercy to be desired, doubtless comprises all the covenant 
resources pertaining to " the last days ;" which shall gar- 



ITS PERFECTION PERSONAL REDEMPTION. 235 

nisli and amplify the Churcli, till she corresponds fully with 
the visions of prophecy, and her New Testament image — 
" the bride, the Lamb's wife." How rich and effectual is 
the mercy which heals the disease and the breaches of 
Zion ! which anoints her ministers, and fills her saints with 
gladness ! which so blesses her provision, as to " satisfy her 
poor with bread !'' which multiplies her people like a flock, 
and causes them to spring up, ^' as willows by the water- 
courses !'' which renders them countless as the sands, and 
bright as the dew ! which so teems with fecundity, that 
the barren sings " which did not bear," and the shame of 
divorce is recompensed in hosts of spiritual progeny ! This 
is the mercy which the Church and the world ever call for ; 
it crowns every indulgence from the righteous, but paci- 
fied, Sovereign of heaven and earth. It is an element of 
unmixed universal beneficence ; it is, what the angelic 
choir rapturously sung over the plains of Bethlehem — " good 
will toward men ;" it is goodness — " love " — in the choicest 
expressions of its favour, — its own healing wings spread 
over a land ; its gifts are all " perfect," as well as " good," 
— without drawback, or limitation. They are not contin- 
gent in their properties and effects, as other things are. 
Their immutable' adaptation to bless mankind, arises equally 
from the Divine nature and the human, and their rela- 
tions to each other. They express all primary and neces- 
sary truth ; they are revelations of existing relations, govern- 
ment, ends. They bind the present and the ultimate 
together ; they provide for all subordinate interests, and 
the details of life, by grand constitutions of wise and bene- 
volent action. 

Every principle and ordinance of religion bears towards 
one result — the restoration of its own supremacy over man. 
To provide for, and to accomplish this, are the whole wealth 
and policy of Divine mercy exercised. All measm^es of 
amelioration anticipate this, or are contingent on it. The 
external regime over men supposes the internal ; it is but 



236 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

the shadow of this sun, which, rounding the dial of the 
world's existence, insures a growing brightness to its hours. 
The mercy which is personally saving, is the summary of 
all mercy to the world ; it is its full exposition, its high- 
est exercise, its crowning benefit. To this it travels, and 
in this it rests. Its dominion in individuals is its highest 
sovereignty over the whole world ; it is comparatively 
powerless beyond the province of man's spiritual nature. 
Its proper social and national effects issue from this first 
and deepest action of its power, and are limited by it. This 
bears a relation to other things, similar to that of the great 
First Cause to material nature ; it is Divinity, in the moral 
world all-pervading as in the phj^sical. 

Christianity, as the reign of God, must be a perfect con- 
stitution for all human interests. The course of the world, 
and the moral tendencies of human nature, have main- 
tained a fruitless, but most instructive war against this 
truth. The human rule is opposed to the divine ; the wis- 
dom and sufficiency of the creature to the provisions of 
Omnipotent Love. Such is the gist of all past and impend- 
ing controversies between man and his Maker ; and is the 
doctrine pressed upon him, by the workings of his nature, 
in every shift and modification of it, through the many cen- 
turies of the past. From its true Aveal, the mind of the 
world, just as that of individuals, instinctively diverges. 
The great social problem, about which every order of mind, 
in the climacteric march of centuries, has been engrossed, 
is sought to be wrought out without the aid of the Divine 
counsel, and in opposition to it. This is the frowardness, 
which ever has been, and still is, "judicially carried head- 
long." Men begin where their predecessors left off; they 
discard the testimony of experience, and are blind to the 
facts of history. Summoning their powers anew to the 
task, they bring all the treasures of discovery to tjieir aid ; 
they reason and experiment confidently, they revel in the 
paradise of hope, yet the world remains as it was. It 



SOCIAL REGENERATION BY RELIGION. 237 

cannot advance, but by moral remedies ; and these are all 
in the custody of religion , which is neglected and despised. 
Nor does it seem a likelihood, that the wisdom of confessing 
the error, and of earnestly seeking the guidance of better 
principles, will ever arise from this source. 

Self-conviction is just as little an inherent power in those 
who enshrine the idol of self-government, as in those who 
advocate despotic sway. The great remedy is as foreign 
to the world, in the Scriptural sense of that word, as the 
Gospel grace is to our common nature. It does not arise 
out of it, but is brought into it. Another, and a superior 
system to the social one, must be set up, which shall be the 
seat of the rectifying principle, and invested with a power- 
fully aggressive action. 

Such is the evangehc method of national and social re- 
generation. It is God's mercy in Christ, conveyed through 
his Church, as its covenanted repository, and prescribed exe- 
cutive. The Church is not to be brought down to the level 
of the world, but the world brought up to the level of the 
Church ; and thus the new and heavenly society is normal 
to the whole ; its spirit is to pass into it, and its laws made 
to actuate it. In order to this, the perfect integrity of the 
intermedial economy is necessary ; the undivided fulness of 
its resources, with corresponding degrees of divine blessing. 
It is the mercy imphed in great evangelical operations ; in 
outpourings of the Spirit, followed by vast accessions of 
saved persons to the Church. This mercy is the fullest de- 
velopment of the divine prerogative upon the face of the 
world, not its mere provisional discovery ; it includes effects 
chiefly; just as ''wrath," whose power is declared in visita- 
tions of sweeping desolation. Mercy is remembered when 
it is most evangelically active : its creations make its power 
known : its witnesses are the happy myriads whom it ushers 
into the joys of spiritual life, and stamps with the characters 
of purity, lowliness, and love ; the talents which it conse- 
crates, and the services which it constrains. It is omnipo- 



238 DIVINE GOVERNMENT. 

tent in its healing virtue, and in the production of every 
form of good. It not only expels the demons that afflict 
the world, but removes the disabilities of our nature to its 
proper exercises and enjoyments. It awakens every sym- 
pathy of the heart to beauty and goodness — to the love of 
truth and justice, and brings out the highest demonstration 
of that suggestive saying of the Psalms — " He fashioneth 
their hearts alike." One bosom is made to reflect the soul 
of a commonwealth, as the eye does the image of sunroimd- 
ing nature. The mind which by introversion scans itself, 
traverses with equal facility those of its fellows. Mercy 
opens human hearts to each other, wherever itself has been 
admitted; it removes all barriers, and rends away every 
veil. It brings open vision; it refines and commingles 
human spirits. It perfects family union, adds a new bond 
to society in general, and to man with man. It destroys 
suspicion, as well as malice. It harmonizes self-interest with 
universal duty ; particular claims, with the largest obligations 
of philanthropy. It is, indeed, a rich and sovereign grace, 
such as revelation alone could assure us of, which still 
holds in store for the world greater blessings than it has 
hitherto conferred, when fresh bursts of vengeance threaten 
it ; and there are still stronger reasons to dread such visita- 
tions, than are even the notices of their approach. 

What glorious views of divine clemency must inspiration 
have cast about the minds of seers, and apostles, in succes- 
sion, when, in their convictions, no judgments, either impend* 
mg or future, would efface its vestiges from the government 
of the world, or, so much as diminish the beneficence of 
its sway ! They all ever descried mercy, when the thunder- 
cloud was blackest, and the blast of trumpets, and the ar- 
ray of prodigies, were most astounding. They could still 
look onward to the expended forces of judgment, and to 
the fulfilment of all its dire omens, without dismay. They 
could look above the sky, overlaid with clouds, enkindled 
with the blaze of meteors, or the lightning's fiery shafts, to 



ITS BENIGNANT ISSUES. 239 

the habitation of judgment, as to the throne of mercy also, 
whence every ordinance of good and e\dl issue, and every 
ministry, made to comport with the final reign of redeeming 
love. And this vision becomes more vivid and command- 
ing as ages roll on, and the shifting scenes of the world's 
drama bear the outlines of the divine government out into 
greater clearness ; and the last element, in its administration, 
becomes redundant, in the spread of the religion of Christ. 
The Church is warranted in cherishing a deeper interest 
in the course of the world than the rest of mankind ; and 
to expect events bearing on its destiny more strikingly cor- 
respondent with the descriptions of prophecy, as well as 
with the greatness of its doctrine and design. Faith and 
patience are not at all incompatible; nor, protraction and 
mystery, in the struggle going on in the world, with the 
certainty and glory of the issue. Both wrath and mercy 
may reveal their mightiest resources, to cut short the work ; 
and a single century may be made to yield the consumma- 
tion of many long and dreary epochs. 



240 TRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 



CHAPTER XII. 

PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

** Of what supreme almighty power 
Is Thy great arm, which spans the east and west, 
And tacks the centre to the sphere ! 
By it do all things live their measured hour : 
We cannot ask the thing, which is not there, 
Blaming the shallowness of our request." — Herbert. 
** Faith looks into the secret cabinet 
Of God's eternal counsels, and doth see 
Such mysteries of glory there, as set 
Believing hearts on longing, till they be 
Transform'd to the same image, and appear 
So altered, as if themselves were there.*' — Herbert. 

The doctrine of prayer is ever presented to us, in a power- 
ful and practical manner ; and may be viewed as no mean 
summary of the revelation which contains it. It is an 
ordinance which chiefly finds a place where an economy 
exists midway between innocency and unmixed retribution ; 
the perfect reign of love, and the unmitigated severity of 
vengeance. The final states of being are those, in which 
righteousness obtains its crown, and wickedness its full 
measure of penal woe. Then the decisions of the great 
Ruler are absolute and unalterable. Not only is the cha- 
racter of the agent perfectly developed, but the relation he 
bears to the plan of a moral administration is necessarily 
an ultimate one. It is in the ^primary stage of being, and 
its correlated probationary condition, that contingency 
ranges, and alternatives are pendent. Probationary inno- 
cency could not shut out prayer, though it could not assume 
a deprecatory tone, nor make its suit to mercy. It would 
be rather the homage of a dependent nature, offered to 
the sovereign and all-sufficient One ; the receptive, to the 
infinitely full and communicable Being; the aspiration of 



PRAYER NATURE AND APPROPRIATENESS. 241 

infantine greatness, after its native aliment, its highest good. 
It might proceed from the yearnings of a very expansive 
nature, after the hidden, and the higher glories of Deity, 
felt to be reachable by no law of existence ; or that this 
should be itself the law of attainment. Or, it might be com- 
bined with a felt necessity for superadded strength, to repel 
evil, and to perfect its own virtue, by a faultless fulfilment 
of the conditions on which its destiny hinged. 

But prayer is, and must be, to fallen beings, the chief 
feature in their worship, and in the means of their recovery. 
There never was any form of religion, whether tine or 
false, in which this fact, at least, was not admitted, . and 
prominently acted upon. Philosophy may have discarded 
prayer; but religion ever clings to it, is based upon it, 
is reared and consummated by it. But prayer is not only 
the most appropriate and striking recognition of our fall ; 
it is equally a recognition of our redemption. This great 
fact of all revelation, and substance of all truth, lies at the 
bottom of it. The primitive altar was a symbol of prayer, 
distinct from the office of invocation itself, which always 
accompanied the offering of sacrifice. But vicarious offer- 
ing was itself the prayer ; the blood cried to God from the 
ground ; and that cry, protracted through many ages, and 
finally uttered from the cross itself, is none other than the 
Scripture plea — " In wrath, remember mercy." 

The whole gospel doctiine is, in fact, but one sublime 
and all- commanding prayer. The atonement itself may 
be resolved into this, as well as the whole office of Christ 
in heaven. Prayer is there sublimely embodied in the 
Lamb slain ; wrath and mercy are shown in those ever- 
hving wounds which He bears ; and the event which they 
publish in heaven, is the one grand plea for the world, — 
" In wrath, remember mercy." Thus the cry of earth is 
only the echo of heaven's own voice on man's behalf ; the 
oracle of that highest sanctuary and everlasting priesthood 
enshrined on earth. It is its proper human counterpart 

11 



242 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

and response, as in that fine Scripture the bride is repre- 
sented as repeating the call of the Spirit to the world — 
*' Come." Thus prayer becomes the mystic ladder, which 
joins both worlds; by it our wants ascend to heaven, 
and blessings descend on us in return. At each extreme, 
prayer holds sovereignty. It is not only taught us in the 
word, but breathed into us by the Spirit ; who, according to 
the symbolic action of the Saviour on his disciples, after his 
resurrection, is the very breath and soul of the Church. 
He cannot but be a praying Spirit in his saints, who reveals 
a praying Saviour in the heavens ; and thus harmonizes 
every emotion in the human breast, with the glorious ask- 
ings of the Man within the veil. This union is the dis- 
covered bond of prayer's omnipotency ; its arm is thus 
made bare as the Lord's, and not man's only ; while it 
shows to us the ground of its New Testament eminency, 
being collated with, and perfected by, the Name of Christ, 
the Divine intercessor for mankind. This insures its un- 
limited prevalency. It cannot fail. Its league and cove- 
nant with God in Christ are immutable ; and the full 
conviction of this truth is the one thing necessary to give 
omnipotency to faith, and salvation to the world. Chris- 
tianity began with this truth, and it must continue and end 
with it. Not only does its economy embody it, but its 
work demands it. The full enthronement of the doctrine 
of prayer gives it a glorious completeness of adaptation to 
its end, and a sovereign sufficiency to work it out. It can 
never retrograde or stand still, with such a charter to plead, 
with such resources always at command. If it cannot 
move men at any time, it can move God. If it be ever 
baffled in its efforts to influence agencies proper for its 
work, it can at once take a loftier range, and take hold of 
His strength, with whom nothing is impossible. 

The doctrine of prayer implies the highest grant of sove- 
reignty to man. It stands alone in glory, as a delegation 
of power to the Chxirch for the performance of its great 



PRAYER—- ITS NEW TESTAMENT SUPREMACY. 243 

work. As its necessity is grounded on the helplessness of 
man, and its exercise implies the diversion of his powers, 
from the visible to the Invisible ; so its strength lies in that, 
which to man seems weakness, and its successes are de- 
rived from a source which he deems chimerical. The cha- 
racteristic difference between the principles of the world 
and those of religion is, that the one regard man only ; the 
other, God in man. To the one, the immediate and the 
visible represents the total of the agency, computed for an 
event ; to the other, it is but the vehicle of the real agency 
put forth, — only the hand, which at once reveals and hides 
the power of God. The import of the Messiah's name em- 
bodies the whole work of his religion : — " God with us ;" 
but the fulness of it, practically considered, is combined with 
prayer. Every constituted relation and office, grafted on 
the great mystery itself, is brought into efficacy and fruit- 
fulness by it. It is the chief practical tinith of religion, 
under every dispensation ; giving unity and perfection to 
the whole. 

Looking at the entire economy of revealed religion, it 
becomes remarkable, that every part of it bears special 
reference to this fact ; and that its sublimest discoveries, so 
far from diminishing the importance, or hiding the glory of 
prayer, throw all their lustre upon it. The ground, and 
the prerogatives of prayer, appear in this ** marvellous 
light" with surpassing evidence. God delights in it as the 
chief offermg of pubHc and private piety. He prescribes 
and enforces it, in forms of address, and with motives to 
compliance, in which His majesty, wisdom, and conde- 
scension, are singularly manifested. He has not only made 
prayer an everlasting ordinance for man, but has combined 
with it the omnipotency of his all-restoring word. He has 
not only spoken out its prerogatives from above, in a voice 
which all generations of men may hear ; he has engraven 
it upon the portals of his Church, as upon those of his 
ancient sanctuary, — "My house shall be called a house 



244 PKAYER AND ITS TKESAGKS. 

of prayer for all nations." It waves on the banner 
he has given to his sacramental host, to be displayed 
before all people. While every other mode of commu- 
nication with himself has been closed, and the epochs 
of interposition have passed away, this remains open : 
and to this, as the true ephod of the Church, responses 
are uniformly given — to the seeking soul, and seeking 
Church alike. 

Prayer alone detects the unseen mercy-seat, which is the 
refuge of the oppressed, and to which every form of misery 
betakes itself. Prayer sets forth the whole doctrine and 
grace of the kingdom of heaven, and is the key to every 
outlet of its healing munificence. It answers to the breadth 
of the promises, and to the length of the purposes of God 
m man's redemption, and the world's existence. It is no 
more a limiting ordinance to man, than it is a partial one ; 
its very basis is human insufficiency ; its object is the In- 
finite One. It extends to the whole circle of human in- 
terests and human needs, stopping short of no good proper 
to our capacity, relations, and prospects. It is less difficult 
to simi up the events of prayer, than to assign its prescrip- 
tional efficacy, which is expended over the recent, and over 
the ancient past alike ; and will be equally over the future, 
whether proximate or remote. It gathers force from the 
expending ages of the world's existence ; and is, like the 
ministry of angels, mighty, though unseen. Nay, it is 
greater than any power of the creature — than the collec- 
tive agency of them all, because the object which it grasps 
is Deity. It is neither a natural, nor a moral force, resi- 
dent in our constitution, or our relation to God ; it is solely 
the charter of grace, and as marvellous as every other fact 
which that economy reveals. Under certain conditions, it 
regulates the mind and policy of God toward the world. 
It can not only mitigate judgments, but avert them. Its 
preventive influence is incalculable ; while its direct bene- 
dictions are wafted over all lands. It can place nations 



PRAYER — ITS RECORDED EFFICACY. 246 

under a special tutelage, and add riches of benignity to 
the constituted powers of even material nature. 

Without ascribing to prayer, in general, the office of 
superseding, or even suspending, the established order of 
nature, its scope is, nevertheless, left sufficiently wide to 
modify its workings and results. A Pagan fatalism, or 
Atheistic necessity, precludes all prayer, inasmuch as it im- 
plies a negation of a governing wisdom^ and will, in the 
affairs of men ; but the philosophy that springs from a 
true theology must ever uphold its prerogatives, because it 
discerns a wide field left open for their exercise, and, be- 
cause it connects all providential dispensations with moral 
ends. Nor can the Book which unfolds the doctrine and 
the ordinance of prayer, be other than the record of its 
mighty acts. It could hardly exhibit a bare dogma, with- 
out examples illustrative of its results. Its annals, in 
both Testaments, reflect its glory. Warriors in the field, 
statesmen in their councils, and kingdoms in their deliver- 
ances, hd,ve shared its benefits, and acknowledged them, in 
sacrifices and in songs. The monarch, the priest, the pro- 
phet, and the saint, have all held fellowship in its mys- 
tery and its triumphs. Inspiration itself has waxed more 
lofty, as its voice has been lifted up, and visions of the 
future have flashed upon the man of God, as his prayer 
told in heaven. Even to the Son of God were *^ the heavens 
opened," and the Dove descended, as he prayed, and 
*'the fashion of his countenance was changed," in the 
sight of his disciples. The very dawn of Pentecost was 
hallowed by the fragrance of this oblation, and the way 
of the Spirit prepared, by the breathings of the disciples 
after the promise. Nor can time itself ever obliterate the 
record of those matins of the gospel-day, or cancel the force 
of their answers. They live through all its hours, and are 
supplemented by every following generation of the living 
church. 

Christianity is, indeed, essentially the religion of prayer: 



246 PBAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

its nature, offices, and history, all testify this. Its whole 
crown of blessing is suspended on prayer. Personal re- 
demption is wrought out by it ; perseverance and perfection 
are its last and precious fruits. Its power is substantiated 
by every new instance of conversion ; it is the anointing of 
every new member of the Church, whose offices are all de- 
signed to give embodiment to this one element, and to 
insure their mightiest ministry before the throne of grace. 
It gives unction to the ministry, and victory to the truth. 
While it fosters the virtues, it tests the spirit of the Church ; 
equally preparing it for enterprise and blessing. Prayer 
is not only the first of Christian duties, but the most glori- 
ous of Christian pri\dleges. Like faith, it claims Christ 
Jesus as its Author and Finisher. Prayer, too, as well as 
faith, is enthroned in Him. Issuing from His mediation, 
it is its human perfection. It is put into the same golden 
censer with the incense of His own merits, and blended 
with His intercession, as the most precious revenue of 
earth. It is the voice, which even He utters as his own 
plea ; speaking sovereignly, though suppliantly, amidst the 
thick darkness, in which his own censer wraps the Paternal 
Throne, and invoking ordinances which career without 
resting, till they have changed the face of the world. 

As every age exhibits, in some respects, new character- 
istics of the moral condition and bearings of humanity; 
so the Church has its corresponding position to take, and 
duties to perform : but the demand for prayer seems to 
admit no variation. The watch-tower must never be for- 
saken, nor this divine remembrancer ever cease to utter its 
cry. Both earth and heaven join in the demand, that this 
daily offering and oblation should never cease. The 
Church must neither live on the prayers of the past, nor on 
those of the future ; on the prayers of the dead, nor of 
those who are yet to live. While it anticipates, it must 
continue y leaving it to the future to complement ; thus, hke 
David, serving each " generation according to the will of 



PRAYER VARIOUSLY ANSWERED. 247 

God." And, verily, if there ever was an age, in which this 
duty was less than paramount, this distinction belongs not 
to our own : for, if the scope of prayer be regarded as coin- 
cident only with the dominion of Christ in the world, as His 
own prayer would intimate, its work is hardly begun ; and 
that silence would be sin, which should prevene the final 
Sabbath of praise. 

But if this be the one great theme of intercession to the 
elect, as it is indeed the fulness of divine promise to the 
Church, the whole series of intermediate events must stand 
related to it ; nor should the going foi*th from the heavenly 
sanctuary of the seven angels, having the *' seven last 
plagues," nor the alighting of burning coals upon the 
earth, accompanied by thunders and lightnings, which 
appal the world, oppress, or deject, the servants of God. 
He may shake the earth, and rend the heavens, when their 
cry comes before Him ; and, the same censer which had just 
discharged its incense, may receive its answers, in stores of 
burning vengeance for the world. Before mercy, judgment 
may come forth ; trouble may be the harbinger of peace ; 
and the deluge sweep over the earth, ere the olive branch 
is seen. 

The present are not ordinary times ; whether the condi- 
tion and bearings of the human mind are considered, or the 
administration of God, in the visible actings of His provi- 
dence. Long since has he rested from those material and 
mundane operations ; those grand breakings forth of Om- 
nipotency, the records of which are graven on the whole 
superfice of our globe. All the warfare and riot of these 
awful forces, his almighty voice has, for ages innumerable, 
hushed into profoundest peace. His every order of crea- 
ture is silently, but perfectly conserved; his every law of 
governance upheld, with inviolable precision. Time runs 
its course, and the covenant of day and night is unbroken. 
Even the ages of sensible interposition, and physical miracle, 
are, like those of creation, shrouded in the darkness of the 



248 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

distant past ; and beam forth in tlie record, only as stars in 
the firmament, awaiting the last morn of millennial times. 
But the contracted sphere within which Deity is now 
pleased to operate — even the existing manhood of creation 
— is, by this very fact, rendered the theatre of greater won- 
ders. The simply circumstantial and preparatory scenes 
of the world's history are over. The great measures for 
its recovery have been taken ; constitutions of rule for all 
time have been settled. Everything strange has ceased, 
and the visibly supernatural been withdrawn; but pro- 
gression. Heaven's great law of consummation, cannot fail ; 
nor the agencies sink into slumber, by which all things 
are impelled toward the goal. Even monotonous seasons 
are expressive. They address both our reason, and our 
faith ; they are but prognostics of coming scenes, of greater 
interest ; as the silence, which was in heaven " for the space 
of half an hour," omened the extraordinary events of the 
. last seal, and the fulfilment of the '* mystery of God." 

But while it is true, that in the agency and fortunes of 
men, God is most strikingly manifest, and the lessons of a 
lofty wisdom are plentifully scattered on the past track of 
human existence ; yet are these treasures ever augmenting, 
by new experiences in the application of great principles 
to fresh facts. These are seasons especially inviting both 
to review and anticipation. Attention is awakened by 
events, as remarkable for their magnitude, as their number 
and variety. They are widely diffused, but intimately con- 
nected ; and almost as simultaneous, as if they were but 
mechanical effects. One stroke of a central power, seems 
to thrill through the living mass, invisible as the fluid, 
which, from the electric wire, makes its shock felt at the 
\^ same instant, through the whole of our frame. Convulsion 
and paroxysm seize upon society, as upon Saul, when an 
evil spirit from God troubled him. Headlong frenzy 
sweeps the mind of nations, as if a fiery torch were flung 
among them. 



PRAYER TO CROWN EXERTION. 249 

Movement is everywhere rife. The fruit of seeds long 
sown becomes suddenly matured ; and, like the harvest- 
sheaf, yields the seed of future crops. The world's mind 
seems to have outgrown the moulds and habits which had 
previously restricted it — it is disenchanted and free ; yet is 
that very freedom but that of the evil spirit, going *' through 
dry places, seeking rest and finding none ;" and, like it, 
rather taking seven other spirits, worse, not better than 
itself. 

The throes and changes of society, considered in them- 
selves, are little else than new revelations of human de- 
pravity ; and the line is only cast deeper into the abyss, to 
certify the impression that it is unfathomable. Yet, in all 
these phases of our fall, we are not to overlook the features 
of God's rule in man, and that this long and perplexing 
experiment on our common nature holds steady alliance 
with the purposed triumph of healing measures. The 
more active and expanding the mind of the world becomes, 
the more is there of God in it ; though the impressions of 
this fact may become more faint to the world itself, and the 
downfall of the empire of false religions may seem to 
threaten the existence of the true. Nor, perhaps, was 
there ever a day when the assertion and coUision of prin- 
ciples was so bold and energetic, as in our own ; when 
evil was so well disciplined, or presented so may points of 
subtle, and well-defined array, against the march of truth ; 
when men were either so well prepared, or so eager, to 
enter the lists against it, not more as it stands opposed to 
the sovereignty of reason, than as it frowns upon the irres- 
ponsible and hcentious temper of the age. Never, possibly, 
before, were human activities and aspirings so powerful, 
and so manifold ; never were they in more danger of break- 
ing away altogether, from the guidance of religion and 
the influence of the Christian Church. Never had the 
Church a wider field thrown open to her enterprise, nor 
ever one beset with greater difl[iculties. Never were the 

11* 



250 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

tendencies of society to discard supernatural aid more 
manifest ; never were the demands for it louder, when the 
results of all merely human effort to advance the happiness 
of the world are considered. In this point of view, prayer 
is a yet more urgent duty, than even the best sustained en- 
deavour ; holiness is more needed than enterprise, and the 
purification of the Church than the extension of her terri- 
tory. Prayer must be our great safeguard from the viru- 
lence of surrounding contagion, as well as the highest 
power which can be put forth, when we essay the removal 
of mountains ; and, however we may dread the voice of 
God, in judicial visitations of unwonted severity, we should 
be much more dismayed at the loss of his presence in the 
Church. " Yea," says one, " in the way of thy judgments 
have we waited for thee." However terrible the path 
from which the manifold forms of destruction issue, the feet 
of saints may stand upon it ; it is safe as well as holy ground. 
They wait for God when men, panic-stricken, flee from 
Him; as in the opening of the sixth seal, they are said to 
hide themselves '' in the dens, and the rocks of the moun- 
tains." They wait for God, till, the cycle of His judg- 
ments being complete, the career of his beneficence is 
resumed, and the progress of his poHcy is seen to enlarge 
and exalt his Church. They who wait for God, transfer 
the principles and experiences of personal life to the collec- 
tive life of the world. Every fact and intimation of the divine 
government speaks its unity and its progression : these de- 
mand, and in some respects reveal, the future. The song 
of the Church, of " mercy and judgment," belongs to more 
than time. It is the response of the entire economy of the 
world, uttered by minds sublimated by divine intelligence 
and love. It is the song of salvation, as it ascends from 
earth and heaven together ; seeing that '' mercy and judg- 
ment" supply its every moral element, and unfold them- 
selves alike in the history of individuals, and of the world 
at large. Neither mercy nor judgment can be built up 



RELIGION THE CREATION OF FAITH. 251 

siyigly : their incorporation is their strength ; their blend- 
ing is the perfection of the administration of redemption ; 
and the temple, which they rear and consecrate, shall bear 
equally their impress and glory forever. 

When a prophet delivers it, that '' the just shall live by 
his faith," he may be said to have given us a great com- 
pendium both of truth and saintship. It declares that a 
behever in whatever truths God has made known, and in 
whatever degree he is in his soul what the name imports, 
is to be ranked amongst the just, not merely in the sight 
of men, but much more in the sight of God. It informs us 
how he becomes so, as well as the characteristic mould 
which his being takes, and the bearings of it upon all sur- 
rounding and related objects. The just man is the creature 
of faith : he lives by it, as by a parental power — a cause 
graciously disposed within the soul by its Author, and im- 
mediately subordinated to his own all- quickening Spirit, 
itself the fruit of "the free gift" which brings "justifica- 
tion unto life." Springing out of this, as a federal preve- 
niency, a general dowry of redemption, it appropriates all 
its treasures. The truth, as the word of omnipotent grace, 
raises up the soul in power, and directs it to an immediate 
union with the Redeemer's fulness. Hence the man lives 
as "just," because justified by faith; his relation and his 
nature are changed together. The breath of his being is 
henceforth " from on high ;" his soul's origin is attested 
with power ; and its OAvn world, as a spirit, is re-opened to 
it by the might of that baptism which has restored its fel- 
lowship with God. The deposition of sense from its sove- 
reignity, and the crucifixion of the flesh, are the behests of 
faith. It is not only spiritual, it is spiritualizing : it rears 
up its own dominion within us ; it begets a new condition 
and direction of mind ; revealing God to the soul, it reveals 
the soul to itself. It creates all its diviner instincts, per- 
suasions, tastes, and marshals every moral law of man- 
hood after God, as its archetype and end ; which, as it now 



252 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

stands related to him, is as our bodily nature to the soul — 
a development of his beauty, and an instrument of his 
power. Faith is nutritive and perfecting, not originative 
only. If it awake new senses in the soul, it furnishes 
them with new objects. Deeper wants are met with cor- 
responding satisfactions ; the yearnings of the spiritual 
birth find their proper good in their union with the power 
which created them. To live by faith, is to draw breath, 
health, and high-toned action from it. It shares the mys- 
tery of those natures which have growth to perfection 
planted in them — a law bound up in life itself, adding to 
its measure till it attain its predestinated bound. The pro- 
gressions of nature do but symbolize the life of faith. 
Sanctification is but this power arrayed in light, purer than 
the heavens, the image and glory of Him that fiUeth all 
things. All the virtues are but its varied hues, thrown 
from the prism of individual and collective character. 
Faith rescinds the code of the world, or so alters and 
amends it, as to bring it into subjective harmony with its 
own ; itself measured by the Word, it is a measure to all 
things else — a heavenly balance in which all thing are 
weighed — a divine test to try *^ the things that differ." 

To live by faith is the whole practice and philosophy of 
rehgion ; it opens a path which none but believers see, and 
none but believers walk in. Faith links together worlds 
which otherwise would bear no known affinity, and unfolds 
relations and interests to man, from which all other condi- 
tions of his being shut him out. This power alone can ir- 
radiate the Bible, and make its divinity as thoroughly a con- 
scions thing, as are the perfections of its Author. It takes 
the Scripture as the sure witness and exponent of what has 
been, is, and shall be. Faith makes our moral conscious- 
ness prophetic ; its sympathies and counterparts are all in- 
volved in the objects of the future. The past, or the 7ioio of 
religion, cannot comprise the whole reason of its existence, 
or the patrimony of its principles. AVhile the past has sup- 



FAITH A PROPHETIC PRINCIPLE. 253 

plied the facts of its history, the epochs of its administra- 
tion include an unknown space, and its issues are eternal. 
To Uve by faith is to expand to the full dimensions of our 
own being, and of all kindred things, as fixed and declared 
by Almighty God. It is as a point from which an endless 
line may be drawn, or the widest circumference described. 
Faith is the eye looking into that of the Infinite, unveiled 
in the midst of the darkness that envelopes all things. It 
is the ear receptive of oracles amidst all nature's deathUke 
silence. It is a divination, fetched neither from the heavens, 
nor the earth, but from Him that made them both. Its 
prognostics are as independent of every form of science, 
" falsely so called," as they are of the darkest forms of su- 
perstition. Faith's vaticinations are all aloof from those of 
the astrologer, the necromancer, the soothsayer. It neither 
burrows in the grave, nor in the cavern, nor ascends to dwell 
among the stars. It is indeed above reason, hut never helow 
it ; it disenchants it of a whole host of evil spells ; it raises 
it above the regions of the mist and phantom, to make it 
radiant with eternal truth, Uke the woman seen by the 
prophet of Patmos, " clothed with the sun." 

When, therefore, it is said, "the just shall live by his 
faith," it signifies, that from the beginning there has been 
extant a race of prophetic men — men who drew their prin- 
ciples and their destiny from heaven ; men who visibly re- 
presented the redeeming counsels of God toward the world. 
These intently gazed upon the dark and distant future, and 
threw themselves into the deepest of its shades, as being 
one with the pathw^ay of their own being. Their own divine 
anticipations, even almost apart from prophecy, were the 
offspring of their own heaven-bom principles ; faith neces- 
sarily pointing to an after-life to this, a condition of objec- 
tive realization of the idea which itself had created. It 
brings all the assurance of a fact, without its implied reasons 
or philosophy ; a settled presentiment of destiny, without 
so much as guessings at zvkat it shall be, because now sub- 



254 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

sisting in the divine mind only. Faith is a grand antecedent 
fact in experience, as yet solitary, and subsisting amidst 
nothing but anomalies and contradictions to itself. It has 
its reason in something real, however recondite, as the mag- 
net in the pole, however distant ; and the just man's life is 
set to it, and his voyage is ruled by it, whatever be his 
haven and his home. 

Hence its transference to the destinies of the world of 
men, is as simple as to its own ; and the impossibilities which 
sense and reason lay as mountains in its way, are as readily 
dissolved as mists by the sun, or as clouds by the breeze. 
The faith which has already guided its subject into the land 
of the living, which inspires with a conviction that impend- 
ing dissolution is but an opaque transit to an illustrious 
being, and the state of death, but precursor to the glorifi- 
cation of the whole man, cannot quail before the antagonisms 
which forbid the world's regeneration. The personal and 
the general object of faith, are hound together in the plan and 
progress of huriian restitution. They belong to the same 
system of rule, they are in line with each other, they advance 
together; the work of God in the man, and the work of 
God in the world, bear a similar relation and proportion to 
each other, that a stone does to an entire building, or a 
subject to the masses of a mighty empire. Hence, the tvider 
anticipations of faith are never severed from the doctrine of 
facts, nor its grand generalization from the just inductions 
of spiritual self -existence. An individual, or a pair, may 
contain a model, and a prophecy of a whole world of men 
to come : and faith may be to the coming restitution, what 
the monad was to the universe, in the purest pagan wisdom, 
— its parent principle. The very style of those prophecies 
which it adopts as divinely consonant with itself, shows that 
they are but events antedated, but the august voice from 
the throne which John heard, saying, ''It is done." As 
the first world was but the echo of an Almighty voice, so 
shall the second spring forth from the promise as its seed. 



FAITH THE PROLEPSIS OF FINAL TRUTH. 255 

The consummation only is registered : but all progressions 
are included in it ; and all events whicli time past may have 
evolved, or time future may bring forth, combine to fore- 
shadow and assure it. His work will appear to his servants, 
and his glory to their children. The magnificent imagery 
of Habakkuk's ode, cannot be compressed within the limits 
of a nation or an age. The brightness of Jehovah's glory, 
when, marching from Teman unto Paran, he bowed the 
mountains, and scattered the nations ; when Cushan's tents 
were in affliction, and Midian's habitations trembled ; when 
He dried up the rivers, parted the sea, and commanded the 
sun and moon to halt in their courses ; when He moved on- 
ward with his hosts, and the bow, and the chariot, the 
spear, and the sword, hurled destruction on the foe, and 
for the salvation of his people ; these could not have been his- 
torical references only, even though no hyperboles, on the 
events of glorious yore. The history itself wets hut a parable, 
and therefore the basis of a prophecy; which, however 
various, is like clouds all coloured by the same sun, and 
vaulted by the same sky. 

It is the song of salvation, which, if it appertained to 
Moses, does much more to the Lamb. He who personally 
verifies his own golden words, " the just shall hve by his 
faith," when he says, '* I will joy in the God of my salva- 
tion," surely could not set his muse to an earthly strain ; 
nor could these lofty words be a designed apostrophe from 
something without consonancy, — ahen, poor, but a climax 
in the march of this inspired ode ; a chorus, burst from this 
divine minstrelsy, in which all the prophets join; and in 
which, according to John's revelation, heaven and earth 
shall at length antiphonize. For what is the vision which 
saints desiderate, and faith assures, but that of conflicts raging 
throughout the world, and over ages and generations ? — of 
judgments, by which God declares the power of His wrath, 
breaking nations in pieces, and scattering desolation over the 
world, till the wickedness and hopelessness of rebellion 



256 PRAYER AND ITS PRESAGES. 

against Christ become manifest ? What but that of the tran- 
quillizing and blissful end of all struggles and woes, when 
the kingdoms shall have become the Lord's ; and His church, 
arrayed in glory, shall stand prepared for the consummating 
hour of his final advent? What mean the sea of glass, 
clear as crystal, which surrounds the throne, and on which 
stand the harpers with their golden harps, and the taber- 
nacle opened for the entrance of all nations, and the glorious 
scenes of a catholic worship? Can these images signify 
anything but the pacification of the world as the fruit of re- 
Ugion?— the waves sunk into eternal sleep, and the unclouded 
depths, out of which the Throne towers as a mountain, and 
casts its image over the whole ; while every harper is a 
conqueror, and every note a psean ! And what further says 
the vision, but that worship is the last, as it was the first 
office of man, and to bring in the priesthood and the Sab- 
bath of redemption, the great work of mediatorial sway ? 

With the glimpses of a world refashioned, and reconsti- 
tuted, the sublime draft of prophecy is concluded — the 
evening sun of our dwelimg-place tints and mellows it with 
heaven. Unpolluted, it is undisturbed ; transformed by 
the hand that moulded it, it is raised to be the seat of im- 
mortality and divine vision. It has passed through every 
era and form of probationary rule ; it has at length reached 
the goal of its creation, beyond which all reverses are ex- 
cluded. Its eternal future shall be, out of all proportion, 
brighter than its p<xst has been dark. The deep swathings 
of its chaotic state are unloosed, which veiled the face of 
this final morning, whose dominion shall eschew sin, suf- 
fering, and the grave. The long enigmatic processes of ex- 
periment and discipline have run out. The character and 
conflict of principles are finished, and stamped with their 
own moral issues. In a word, the harvest of the world 
IS gathered ! 

the end. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2005 

PreservationTechnologies 

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